26 august 2012

The Man in the Moon came down too soon


JRR Tolkien

The Man in the Moon had silver shoon,
And his beard was of silver thread;
With opals crowned and pearls all bound
About his girdlestead,
In his mantle grey he walked one day
Across a shining floor,
And with crystal key in secrecy
He opened an ivory door.

On a filigree stair of glimmering hair
Then lightly down he went,
And merry was he at last to be free
On a mad adventure bent.
In diamonds white he had lost delight;
He was tired of his minaret
Of tall moonstone that towered alone
On a lunar mountain set.

Hе would dare any peril for ruby and beryl
To broider his pale attire,
For new diadems of lustrous gems,
Emerald and sapphire.
He was lonely, too, with nothing to do
But stare at the world of gold
And hark to the hum that would distantly come
As gaily round it rolled.

At plenilune in his argent moon
In his heart he longed for Fire:
Not the limpid lights of wan selenites;
For red was his desire,
For crimson and rose and ember-glows,
For flame with burning tongue,
For the scarlet skies in a swift sunrise
When a stormy day is young.

He'd have seas of blues, and the living hues
Of forest green and fen;
And he yearned for the mirth of the populous Earth
And the sanguine blood of men.
He coveted song, and laughter long,
And viands hot, and wine,
Eating pearly cakes of light snowflakes
And drinking thin moonshine.

He twinkled his feet, as he thought of the meat,
Of pepper, and punch galore;
And he tripped unaware on his slanting stair,
And like a meteor,
A star in flight, ere Yule one night
Flickering down he fell
From his laddery path to a foaming bath
In the windy Bay of Bel.

He began to think, lest he melt and sink,
What in the Moon to do,
When a fisherman's boat found him far afloat
To the amazement of the crew,
Caught in their net all shimmering wet
In a phosphorescent sheen
Of bluey whites and opal lights
And delicate liquid green.

Against his wish with the morning fish
They packed him back to land:
'You had best get a bed in an inn', they said;
'The town is near at hand'.
Only the knell of one slow bell
High in the Seaward Tower
Announced the news of his moonsick cruise
At that unseemly hour.

Not a hearth was laid, not a breakfast made,
And dawn was cold and damp.
There were ashes for fire, and for grass the mire,
For the sun a smoking lamp
In a dim back-street. Not a man did he meet,
No voice was raised in song;
There were snores instead, for all folk were abed
And still would slumber long.

He knocked as he passed on doors locked fast,
And called and cried in vain,
Till he came to an inn that had light within,
And tapped at a window-pane.
A drowsy cook gave a surly look,
and 'What do you want?' said he.
'I want fire and gold and songs of old
And red wine flowing free!'

'You won't get them here', said the cook with a leer,
'But you may come inside.
Silver I lack and silk to my back -
Maybe I'll let you bide'.
A silver gift the latch to lift,
A pearl to pass the door;
For a seat by the cook in the ingle-nook
It cost him twenty more.

For hunger or drouth naught passed his mouth
Till he gave both crown and cloak;
And all that he got, in an earthen pot
Broken and black with smoke,
Was porridge cold and two days old
To eat with a wooden spoon.
For puddings of Yule with plums, poor fool,
He arrived so much too soon:
An unwary guest on a lunatic quest
From the Mountains of the Moon.

4 comentarii :

Riddick spunea...

The Adventures of Tom Bombadil


The Man In The Moon Came Down Too Soon by J R R Tolkien

There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he saws his bow
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.

The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.

They also keep a hornéd cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.

And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For Sunday there's a special pair,
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.

The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced
and the little dog chased his tail.

The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.

Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
'The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!'

So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
'It's after three!' he said.

They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While his horses galloped up in rear,
And the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with the spoon.

Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.

With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,
And the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.

The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She* hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed!


Riddick spunea...



Anonim spunea...

Scuzati. Eu traiesc in Romania si nu cunosc limba invigatorilor. Am ramas corigent pe acest principiu. Va multumesc din suflet romanesc pentru intelegere. Doamne ajuta.

Riddick spunea...

Prin Armstrong, am învins toți (natura), ajungând pe Lună. Cu click pe Neil Armstrong (sub poză) se poate citi și ceva în românește.

Citate din gândirea profundă a europeiştilor RO

Bogdan Chirieac, 2013: "Cu alte cuvinte, Germania a avut dreptate să considere România o țară neguvernabilă. Poate de aceea sunt necesare și Statele Unite ale Europei cu Berlinul pe post de Washington. Astfel, în sfârșit, și aceste teritorii însemnând România, Bulgaria, dar și Italia, Grecia, Ungaria, vor deveni guvernabile."

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