Another borrowed poem from my collection of favourites.
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WonderWhy
Joined: 25 Jun 2009
Posts: 244
Another borrowed poem from my collection of favourites.
I hope no-one minds...once again I'd like to share a poem that I find interesting, meaningful, even beautiful in a disturbing way...I apologise that I am not the author of this poem.
As it was written so long ago (1819), I assume that it is in the public domain and that I can reproduce it here without concern.
It has an unusual rhythm; each stanza seems to end so abruptly. It took me a while to get used to that. I love the fact that it makes me think, and there are so many different ways it can be interpreted. Something I like about poetry in general is that the reader can interpret it in a different way to how the poet intended it, and that only adds another layer of complexity to the poem.
John Keats: ''La Belle Dame Sans Merci'' (the beautiful lady without pity)
Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Oh 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 cheeks 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 made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.
I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery's song.
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 wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed - Ah! woe betide! -
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
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!'
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.
And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Fri Jan 22, 2010 11:34 am
MysteryGirl Moderators
Joined: 02 Jun 2007
Posts: 3419
Location: I come from a land downunder
Ahhhh, it has been SO long WW since I thought about this piece. I read this at school as a young teenager and found it so intriguing and it is interesting to review it again, as an adult.
the poor knight, he has escaped death...............or has he?
HugZ, MG _________________ Be yourself.............everybody else is taken!
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the poor knight, he has escaped death...............or has he?
