This website is using cookies

We use cookies to ensure that we give you the best experience on our website. If you continue without changing your settings, we'll assume that you are happy to receive all cookies on this website. 

Keats, John: Byronhoz (To Byron in Hungarian)

Portre of Keats, John

To Byron (English)

Byron! how sweetly sad thy melody! 
Attuning still the soul to tenderness, 
As if soft Pity, with unusual stress, 
Had touch'd her plaintive lute, and thou, being by, 
Hadst caught the tones, nor suffer'd them to die. 
O'ershadowing sorrow doth not make thee less 
Delightful: thou thy griefs dost dress 
With a bright halo, shining beamily, 
As when a cloud the golden moon doth veil, 
Its sides are ting'd with a resplendent glow, 
Through the dark robe oft amber rays prevail, 
And like fair veins in sable marble flow; 
Still warble, dying swan! still tell the tale, 
The enchanting tale, the tale of pleasing woe.



Uploaded bySebestyén Péter
Source of the quotationhttps://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-byron/

Byronhoz (Hungarian)

Byron! mily édes-bánatos dalod!
Még gyengédebbre hangolod szívem,
akár lágy szánalom nyúlt volna hirtelen
lantjához, oly panaszlón zsongatod,
éltetve mind az átvett hangzatot.
Varázsodat a könnyek árja sem
csökkenti - fények öltözékeiben
dicső sugárba rejted bánatod -
mint aranyhold, ha fellegekbe hág
s két oldalán a fény parázsa ég,
a gyászruhán borostyánszín süt át,
sötét márványban és dereng ekképp.
Dalolj haldokló hattyú, mondd tovább
a kedves-bús, a bűvölő mesét.



Uploaded bySebestyén Péter
Source of the quotationblog.xfree.hu

minimap