Lord Alfred Tennyson

Shalott h�lgye

Foly�v�lgyben napsug�r,
Rozs �s �rpa t�ncot j�r,
Mez�t ruh�z, �gbe sz�ll,
S a r�tmetsz� �t v�g�n v�r
Soktorny� Camelot.
N�pe szeme messze kelt,
Liliomos tavat lelt,
T� viz�nek f�ld felelt:
Sziget az ott: Shalott.

Reszket a f�z, ny�rfa �ga,
S�t�t szelet rep�t h�ta,
�r�k folyam k�k habj�ra,
F�ld-�lel� v�z-karj�ba.
H�mp�ly�g-lent Camelot.
Nagy a fal, n�gy torony, sz�rke,
Vir�gr�l a f�nyt elsz�rve,
Csendes sziget m�ly�n �lve
Sz�p le�ny, s a sziget: Shalott.

Parton f�zfa koszor�zza
D�szes b�rk�t; lassan h�zza
V�zhabja-l�, v�zen k�szva,
A r�zb�rka selyem�tra
Siklik le; s fent: Camelot.
De intett-e � neked m�r?
� az, ki a l�pcs�n �ll?
Tudod-e a nev�t m�r
A h�lgynek- hona Shalott-?

Napsz�mos, ki hajnallal kel,
Kasza suhan – s a sz�llel
Elb�d�tja �nek�vel,
Hangja sz�ll a v�lgy viz�vel,
Le az �rral; s ott: Camelot.
Holdvil�gi paraszt f�radt,
Megk�ti a rozsb�l�kat,
T�nd�r-hang� le�nyt hallgat,
S az � szigete Shalott.

Sz�p sz�ttese �je-napja,
Csilla sz�nnel ragyogtatja.
Hangok suttog�s�t hallja,
Haj�t �tok-�rny takarja,
Ha szem�t vonzza Camelot.
�tok? Tal�n mesef�le...
Sz�vetj�t m�g sz�ni k�ne,
Semmi m�ssal nem t�r�dne
A le�ny; b�rt�ne Shalott.

De megfordul, s t�kre v�rja
Felakasztva k�k fal�ra,
S benne a t�lpart vil�ga,
�sv�ny, melynek v�g�n v�rja
Soktorny� Camelot.
Ez�stfoly� suhan messze,
Falusi n�p t�n nevetve
Piact�rre igyekezve…
S messze, messze: Shalott.

Hajadon, ha nevet fennen,
Vagy egy pap reszketeg nyergen
Lovagol; vagy arra �ppen,
Apr�d skarl�t k�peny�ben
Ir�nyuk: Camelot.
�s hol, hol nem, a t�k�r k�kje,
Lovagoknak f�nyl� v�rtje,
- Nincsen, ki �t h�n megv�dje,
A le�nyt- m�g�tt�k Shalott.

Sz�ttes�ben mindig l�tja
T�kre f�ny�t; s nem v�rja
�jszak�nak s�t�t �lma
R�mk�peit; kopors�ja
Zen�je, f�nye Camelot.
A hold, mikor f�lez�stl�tt,
Egy szerelmesp�r halottan j�tt.
„F�lre, �rnyak!” ki�lt s sz�tt
Tov�bb a l�ny; hona Shalott.

Lakja mell�l ny�ll�v�sre,
Kal�sz k�zt nem gyomn�v�sre
Sz�ll napsug�r; a nap f�nye
L�ngot lobbant r�z mellv�rtre,
S a lovag: Lancelot.
H�s lovag, ki h�n szeretn�
H�lgy�t- ac�l pajzsa v�dn�,
Az most tornyot t�kr�z k�pp�,
S a torony: Shalott.

K�ves kant�r villog messze
Mint sz�z csillag ny�ri este,
Arany Tej�t f�nylik messze.
Sz�jharangnak j� a kedve,
S az �ti c�l: Camelot.
S b�rb�l font, c�meres �ve,
K�rt rajta, gy�m�ntos k�ve
Csengett, v�gt�n elrep�lve.
El�l, n�zd! - az Shalott.

K�k �g alatt vadul v�gtat
Ragyog, f�nylik, arany s�pad
Napf�ny a nyeregre t�mad,
Napf�ny a sisakra t�mad,
Benne a k�p: Camelot.
Kereszt�l a b�bor �jen,
K�v�k �lnek holdas f�nyben
Csillag utat h�z az �gen,
S alatta: Shalott.

Par�zslik a lovag szeme,
Csatam�nje v�gtat vele,
Sisak alatt haja selyme,
Hull�m-f�rtje sz�nfekete.
A lovag c�lja Camelot.
Foly� v�lgy�n, foly�parton
Var�zst�k�r a s�rhanton,
„Tirra lirra,” sz�ll a tavon,
�gy dalolt Lancelot.

Hagyd a sz�ttest, hagyd a sz�ket!
�t szob�j�n h�rmat l�pett,
-V�r�s tavir�zsa �gett-
P�nc�lt l�tott �s mellv�rtet,
V�rja �t m�r Camelot.
Sz�p sz�vete sz�lben elsz�llt,
T�kre ezer darabra v�lt,
„El�rt az �tok!” ki�lt,
A l�ny, engedi Shalott.

Keleti sz�l es�t fakaszt
F�k lombj�r�l �gat szakaszt
Z�g� folyam mondott panaszt
A viharnak, �gre akaszt
Vill�mf�nyben Camelot.
L�ny alakja libben partra,
Haj�t rejt a f�zfa lombja
S a b�rka orr�ra �rva:
„ E h�lgy hona Shalott.”

S fenn hom�ly a foly�n t�vol,
Tombol� sz�l hull�mot �rkol,
Le�ny szeme r�ved t�vol,
Arca el�tt halv�ny f�tyol,
A foly�n fenn -, el�tte: Camelot.
S ahogy a nap lenyugodott,
L�nc�t oldja, szeme nyitott,
�gren�z m�g - foly�n siklott
A h�lgy, engedte Shalott.

Feh�rbe sz�tt teste fekszik
A b�rka m�ly�n- Hold n�vekszik
Lombok �rnya f�ny�t metszik,
S siklik; v�rja, �gy tetszik,
A kapu, s azon t�l: Camelot.
F�zfa karol a b�rk�ba,
Omlik a foly� �lm�ra,
�lmodik a l�ny hangj�ra.
Dalol a l�ny, s messze m�r Shalott.

Dala gy�sz volt, szentelt b�nat,
Halkan cseng hangja a l�nynak,
M�g arc�ra hal�l s�padt,
Szem�re m�ly �rnyak sz�lltak.
Fordul a haj�: el�l Camelot.
L�lek a parton m�g nem j�r,
Messze m�g a soktorny� v�r,
B�rk�j�ban halott � m�r,
Nem dalol, s messze Shalott.

Tornyok, k�vek �rnya alatt
Vir�g, erk�ly �ll�t falat
De a b�rka tov�bbhalad,
V�zen �szva, kertek alatt,
S c�lja: soktorny� Camelot.
Szob�ikb�l mind lej�nek
P�rok, urak, d�m�k, h�lgyek,
S a b�rka orr�t n�zve j�nnek:
„E h�lgy hona Shalott.”

Kit hozott a foly� erre?
A z�ld partra le-lemenve
Csendes�l a kir�ly terme,
R�ndul kez�k a keresztre
Cameloti lovagoknak.
Csak Lancelot �ll- szeme harmat,
N�zi - de a halott hallgat.
„Isten adjon nyugodalmat
A shalotti sz�p asszonynak."

       The Lady of Shalott

        PART I

        On either side the river lie
        Long fields of barley and of rye,
        That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
        And thro' the field the road runs by
        To many-tower'd Camelot;
        And up and down the people go,
        Gazing where the lilies blow
        Round an island there below,
        The island of Shalott.

        Little breezes dusk and shiver
        Thro' the wave that runs for ever
        By the island in the river
        Flowing down to Camelot.
        Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
        Overlook a space of flowers,
        And the silent isle imbowers
        The Lady of Shalott.

        By the margin, willow veil'd,
        Slide the heavy barges trail'd
        By slow horses; and unhail'd
        The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
        Skimming down to Camelot:
        But who hath seen her wave her hand?
        Or at the casement seen her stand?
        Or is she known in all the land,
        The Lady of Shalott?

        Only reapers, reaping early
        In among the bearded barley,
        Hear a song that echoes cheerly
        From the river winding clearly,
        Down to tower'd Camelot:
        And by the moon the reaper weary,
        Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
        Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
        Lady of Shalott."

        PART II

        There she weaves by night and day
        A magic web with colours gay.
        She has heard a whisper say,
        A curse is on her if she stay
        To look down to Camelot.
        She knows not what the curse may be,
        And so she weaveth steadily,
        And little other care hath she,
        The Lady of Shalott.

        And moving thro' a mirror clear
        That hangs before her all the year,
        Shadows of the world appear.
        There she sees the highway near
        Winding down to Camelot:
        There the river eddy whirls,
        And there the surly village-churls,
        And the red cloaks of market girls,
        Pass onward from Shalott.

        Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
        An abbot on an ambling pad,
        Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
        Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
        Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
        And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
        The knights come riding two and two:
        She hath no loyal knight and true,
        The Lady of Shalott.

        But in her web she still delights
        To weave the mirror's magic sights,
        For often thro' the silent nights
        A funeral, with plumes and lights
        And music, went to Camelot:
        Or when the moon was overhead,
        Came two young lovers lately wed:
        "I am half sick of shadows," said
        The Lady of Shalott.

        PART III

        A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
        He rode between the barley-sheaves,
        The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves
        And flamed upon the brazen greaves
        Of bold Sir Lancelot.
        A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
        To a lady in his shield,
        That sparkled on the yellow field,
        Beside remote Shalott.

        The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
        Like to some branch of stars we see
        Hung in the golden Galaxy.
        The bridle bells rang merrily
        As he rode down to Camelot:
        And from his blazon'd baldric slung
        A mighty silver bugle hung,
        And as he rode his armour rung,
        Beside remote Shalott.

        All in the blue unclouded weather
        Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather
        The helmet and the helmet-feather
        Burn'd like one burning flame together,
        As he rode down to Camelot.
        As often thro' the purple night,
        Below the starry clusters bright,
        Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
        Moves over still Shalott.

        His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
        On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
        From underneath his helmet flow'd
        His coal-black curls as on he rode,
        As he rode down to Camelot.
        From the bank and from the river
        He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
        "Tirra lirra," by the river
        Sang Sir Lancelot.

        She left the web, she left the loom,
        She made three paces thro' the room,
        She saw the water-lily bloom,
        She saw the helmet and the plume,
        She look'd down to Camelot.
        Out flew the web and floated wide;
        The mirror crack'd from side to side;
        "The curse is come upon me," cried
        The Lady of Shalott.

        PART IV

        In the stormy east-wind straining,
        The pale yellow woods were waning,
        The broad stream in his banks
        complaining
        Heavily the low sky raining
        Over tower'd Camelot;
        Down she came and found a boat
        Beneath a willow left afloat,
        And round about the prow she wrote
        'The Lady of Shalott'.

        And down the river's dim expanse
        Like some bold seer in a trance,
        Seeing all his own mischance--
        With a glassy countenance
        Did she look to Camelot.
        And at the closing of the day
        She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
        The broad stream bore her far away,
        The Lady of Shalott.

        Lying, robed in snowy white
        That loosely flew to left and right--
        The leaves upon her falling light--
        Thro' the noises of the night
        She floated down to Camelot:
        And as the boat-head wound along
        The willowy hills and fields among,
        They heard her singing her last song,
        The Lady of Shalott.

        Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
        Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
        Till her blood was frozen slowly,
        And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
        Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
        For ere she reach'd upon the tide
        The first house by the water-side,
        Singing in her song she died,
        The Lady of Shalott.

        Under tower and balcony,
        By garden-wall and gallery,
        A gleaming shape she floated by,
        Dead-pale between the houses high,
        Silent into Camelot.
        Out upon the wharfs they came,
        Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
        And round the prow they read her name,
        The Lady of Shalott.

        Who is this? and what is here?
        And in the lighted palace near
        Died the sound of royal cheer;
        And they cross'd themselves for fear,
        All the knights at Camelot:
        But Lancelot mused a little space;
        He said, "She has a lovely face;
        God in his mercy lend her grace,
        The Lady of Shalott."