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Miércoles, 27 de noviembre de 2024
Jon Mirande
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JOHN KEATS (1795 - 1821)


LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI 

Ah, what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 
 Alone and palely loitering? 
The sedge is wither'd from the lake, 
 And no birds sing. 

Ah, what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 
 So haggard and so woe-begone? 
The squirrel's granary is full, 
 And the harvest's done. 

I see a lily on thy brow, 
 With anguish moist and fever dew; 
And on thy cheek a fading rose 
 Fast withereth too. 

I met a lady in the meads 
 Full beautiful, a faery's child; 
Her hair was long, her foot was light, 
 And her eyes were wild. 

 I set her on my pacing steed, 
 And nothing else saw all day long; 
For sideways would she lean, and sing 
 A faery's song. 

I made a garland for her head, 
 And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; 
She look'd at me as she did love, 
 And made sweet moan. 

She found me roots of relish sweet, 
 And honey wild, and manna dew; 
And sure in language strange she said, 
 I love thee true. 

She took me to her elfin grot, 
 And there she gaz'd and sighed deep, 
And there I shut her wild sad eyes-- 
 So kiss'd to sleep. 

And there we slumber'd on the moss, 
 And there I dream'd, ah woe betide, 
The latest dream I ever dream'd 
 On the cold hill side. 

I saw pale kings, and princes too, 
 Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; 
Who cry'd--”La belle Dame sans merci 
 Hath thee in thrall!” 

I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam 
 With horrid warning gaped wide, 
And I awoke, and found me here 
 On the cold hill side. 

And this is why I sojourn here 
 Alone and palely loitering, 
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake, 
 And no birds sing.

LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

“Oi, zer duzu miña, zaldun, 
 Ibilki bakar ta zurbil? 
Txoririk ez da, t´ibiña 
 Igar-urbil. 

Oi, zer duzu miña, zaldun, 
 Ain sorgor ta lorrez yota? 
Urtxintxak kutxa bete du. 
 Ein da uzta. 

Lili bat duzu kopetan, 
 Antsiz ta sukar-intzez blai; 
Matelan arrosa, iltzer 
 Ura´re bai” 

“Andre bat landan batu dut 
 Txit eder, lamin-aur bat letz; 
Adatsa luz, oiñak arin, 
 Begiak beltz. 

Ene zaldun yarri nun, 
 Gero deusi ez oartu; 
Ezen kantuz ziardutan 
 Lamin-kantu. 

Lorez ein nion buruztai, 
 Gerriko ta beso-estun, 
So zidan iduri maitez, 
 Baiñan itun. 

Yaki gozo arki zidan 
 Basezti, ta zitu onik; 
Baitin arrotz-itzez zion: 
 “Maite aut nik”. 

Lamin-leizean sar giñan, 
 An negar egin zun miñez, 
An aren begiok itxi 
 Nik-lau muiñez. 

An lo-azi nindun kantuz, 
 Et´an nik, ene gaitzetan! 
Amestu azken ametsa 
 Muño otz artan. 

Printze et´errege ikusi nun 
 Il-margul; oiuz zioten au: 
“La belle Dame sans merci 
 Menpean au!” 

Aien ezpaiñ legorren dei 
 Lazgarri au aditzean, 
Esnatu nintzan, t´arkitu 
 Muño otzean. 

Orregatik nago emen 
 Ibilki bakar ta zurbil, 
Naiz txoririk ez, t´ibiña 
 Igar-urbil”.

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