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Inspirerad av And Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream?’by Alfr

Jag drömde om henne,
som sover i graven,

sov i kistan.

På hennes kinders blommor
en solnedgång lyste
bakom hennes ögonlock.

Ögonfransar som vasstrån,
dränkta av hennes ögon.

Med ängels vita hand
hon fingerströk en lyras strängar.

Ett rosenrött band
ströp lyrans hals,
som med en suck
släckte hennes ljus.

Jag vaknade
av vakan

blev dubbelt tröttsam.

Jag avundas dig, som blev välsignad

såsom död

jag lever.

‘and Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream?’by Alfred Lord Tennyson

'And ask ye why these sad tears stream?'
‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
OVID.
And ask ye why these sad tears stream?
Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?
I had a dream–a lovely dream,
Of her that in the grave is sleeping.
I saw her as ’twas yesterday,
The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;
And round her play’d a golden ray,
And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.
With angel-hand she swept a lyre,
A garland red with roses bound it;
Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire
And amaranth was woven round it.
I saw her mid the realms of light,
In everlasting radiance gleaming;
Co-equal with the seraphs bright,
Mid thousand thousand angels beaming.
I strove to reach her, when, behold,
Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian,
And all that rich scene wrapt in gold,
Faded in air–a lovely vision!
And I awoke, but oh! to me
That waking hour was doubly weary;
And yet I could not envy thee,
Although so blest, and I so dreary.




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Läst 15 gånger
Publicerad 2021-05-09 11:47



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