Encore un peu de poésie. Sous les conseils zavisés de Mrs....

Waterhouse, 1893

Hughes, 1861-1863

Dicksee, 1903

Cowper, 1926

Encore un peu de poésie.

Sous les conseils zavisés de Mrs. Baber, lisons ce poème de John Keats datant de 1819 (inspiré d’un poème d’Alain Chartier du XVe siècle), et dès que je trouve une traduction, je vous la fournis. En attendant, sachez qu’il s’agit de l’histoire d’un jeune chevalier qui fait une étonnante rencontre, une jeune femme (fille d’une fée, hum) aux yeux “sauvages”, qui pourrait bien être la Mort elle-même…

La Belle Dame Sans Merci.
I
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is wither’d from the lake,
And no birds sing.
II
Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.
III
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
IV
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.
V
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.
VI
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.
VII
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew;
And sure in language strange she said -
‘I love thee true.’
VIII
She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gazed, and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
So kiss’d to sleep.
IX
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.
X
I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried - ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!’
XI
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke, and found me here
On the cold hill side.
XII
And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Peintures de Préraphaélites, très inspirés par ce thème.

Je sais pas pour vous, mais moi ça me donne envie de voir le film de Jane Campion en salles en janvier, sur l’amour chaste entre John Keats et sa voisine : ">">">">" target="_blank">">Bright Star… mais je l’ai raté à sa sortie (comme d’habitude).