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07 sept.

„A Poison Tree” de William Blake

I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.	Pe-un prieten eu m-am mâniat: Mi-am spus durerea, m-a lăsat. M-am mâniat pe un duşman: N-am spus-o, a crescut avan.
And I watered it in fears Night and morning with my tears, And I sunned it with smiles And with soft deceitful wiles.	Şi am udat-o tot cu groază, Cu lacrimi am ţinut-o trează; Şi-am însorit-o cu zâmbiri, Şi cu viclene uneltiri.
And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright, And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, –	Şi-atât de mult crescu cumplita, Încât un mândru măr rodit-a; Şi-al meu duşman, zărindu-mi-l Pe creangă sus, veni tiptil,
And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning, glad, I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree.	Furiş, în miezul nopţii-adânce, La mărul meu, ca să mi-l mânce; Şi-n zori, ferice sunt cât zece Să-l văd sub pom, întins şi rece.
William Blake	traducere de Paul Abucean

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