08 nov.
„Ode to the West Wind” de Percy Bysshe Shelley
| I O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, |
I O, vânt de-apus, suflare-a Toamnei crunte, De care fug – cum fug de-un vrăjitor Nălucile – noroadele mărunte, |
| Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed |
Gălbui sau negre, ale frunzelor – Tu, care duci în goana ta sireapă Seminţele spre paturile lor, |
| The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow |
Unde vor zace ca un hoit în groapă Până ce Primăvara – sora ta – De trâmbiţă să sune va să-nceapă |
| Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill: |
Deasupra gliei, şi va adăpa Cu aer cârdul florilor, umplând Cu-arome şi culori orice vâlcea – |
| Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear! |
O, duh ce, pretutindenea trecând, Distrugi şi aperi, te aud suflând! |