Coleridge, Samuel Taylor: Kubla Khan

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossom’d many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reach’d the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she play’d,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within-me,
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

U Zenaduu Kublaj-kan
sazida divan dvor za pir
gde sveti potok, Alfa zvan,
proz špilja svod još nikom znan,
u morski hrli biv.
A poljem dokle seže vid
od kula kruži drugi zid.
Tu mnogom vrtu  potok pruža sjaj,
tu cvate tamjan koji daje kâd;
a mnogi suncem obasjani gaj
tu grle šume gde je večni hlad.

Al gle taj ponor dubok koji pada
niz breg što zelen spušta se do kedra!
Ko kraj je divlji gde bled mesec vlada;
Sred njega huči ko kad posred hada
za mrtvim dragim žena busa nedra!
A kroz taj ponor, ključajuć sve više,
baš ko da zemlja užurbano diše,
mlaz vode silan probi sebi put:
a tu i tamo dah mu seku ljut
sve parčad krupna što skaču ko grad,
ko žito kad ga vrše vranac mlad:
i tu gde igra tih gromada splet,
u trenu šiknu onaj potok svet.
Pet milja zatim lutaše kroz gore,
pa posta rekom potok Alfa zvan;
kroz špilja svod, što nikom nije znan,
on s bukom stiže u to mrtvo more:
tu Kublaj začu, u svoj buci toj,
gde glas predaka proriče mu boj.

Pola senke toga dvora
lebdi tamo gde je val,
gde se čuje odjek hora
bučne vode, gde je žal.
Tu čudo još ne vide ljudski stvor:
na lednoj špilji sav u suncu dvor.

Uz cimbal jedna devojka
dođe mi na san:
u Abisiniji joj dom,
na instrumentu svira tom,
o Abor-gori peva.
Da mogu da ponovim sad
tu svirku i taj poj,
očarô bi me njegov sklad,
pa dug i glasan napev moj
sazidô bi taj dvor gde vlada led!
I tad  bi rekla duša svaka:
ej, tog se čuvaj vilenjaka,
jer žar mu oko, kosa laka!
Oko njeg bajaj trostruk red,
nek vid ti zastre sveti strah,
jer on je pio rose dah
i rajskog mleka jeo med.