05 feb.
„The Faerie Queene” de Edmund Spenser
First Booke. Canto I. | Cartea întâia. Cântul I. |
A gentle Knight was pricking on the plaine, Ycladd in mightie armes and silver shielde, Wherein old dints of deepe woundes did remaine, The cruell markes of many’ a bloody fielde; Yet armes till that time did he never wield. His angry steede did chide his foming bitt, As much disdayning to the curbe to yield: Full jolly knight he seemed, and faire did sitt, As one for knightly giusts and fierce encounters fitt. |
Un mândru Făt da pinteni peste plai, Înveştmântat în fier, cu scut de-arghir Pe care zimţi de răni adânci vedeai Tot semn de-ncrâncenate-mpotriviri; Fier nu purtase încă în turnir; Sirep fugaci, muşca zăbala grea Ne-nduplecat să rabde frâul-zbir; Frumosul Făt, ce falnic se ţinea Ca unul vrednic de-ncleştări, înfiorate prea. |
And on his brest a bloodie Crosse he bore, The deare remembrance of his dying Lord, For whose sweete sake that glorious badge he wore, And dead, as living, ever him ador’d: Upon his shield the like was also scor’d, For soveraine hope which in his helpe he had. Right faithfull true he was in deede and word, But of his cheere did seeme too solemne sad; Yet nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad. |
Purta pe pieptu-i cruce sângerie, Drag suvenir murindului Domn sfânt, Şi-n dragul Lui purta el crucea vie. Drag sus în cer, precum şi pe pământ. Pe scut acelaşi semn şi-a fost săpând, Nădejde-naltă-n naltul ajutor; Cinstit era în faptă şi-n cuvânt, Dar chipu-i prea înnegurat de-un nor; El cel mereu temut, ci nicicând temător. |
Upon a great adventure he was bond, That greatest Gloriana to him gave, (That greatest Glorious Queene of Faery lond) To winne him worshippe, and her grace to have, Which of all earthly thinges he most did crave: And ever as he rode his hart did earne To prove his puissance in battell brave Upon his foe, and his new force to learne, Upon his foe, a Dragon horrible and stearne. |
Cu mare faptă se ştia dator Domniţei Gloriana cea crăiasă, Regina-n glorii-a Ţării Zânelor ‒ Lui slavă, şi-al ei har să-şi dobândească, Cea mai râvnită-avere pământească; Şi tot gonind, gonind, simţea ardoare Mult să străluce-n luptă voinicească Frângând vrăjmaş, ca braţul să-şi măsoare, Frângând vrăjmaş, Balaur, fiară-ngrozitoare. |
Edmund Spenser | traducere de Dan Duţescu |