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Italienii, urmasii nevolnici ai unui popor viteaz si hotarat va vine a crede ca oamenii astia ce n-au castigat un razboi de trei sute de ani nu pierdusera unul in trei sute de ani la un moment dat? De exemplu, pe noi. Sprezzatura este un fel de perfectiune fara a da impresia de efort. Daca pentru neamt sudoarea fruntii este semnul indiscutabil al lucrului bine facut, pentru italian lucrurile ce se fac singure, aparent fara a cere vre-un efort, sunt marca ultima a superioritatii.

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View Full Version : Poezia. Asa ca Asta ar fi ultima mea lecturaapoi m-am decis sa-l devorez pe Chaucer. Scuzati lungimea The elf-queen, with her jolly company, Danced oftentimes on many a green mead; This was the old opinion, as I read.

I speak of many hundred years ago; But now no man can see the elves, you know. For now the so-great charity and prayers Of limiters and other holy friars That do infest each land and every stream As thick as motes are in a bright sunbeam, Blessing halls, chambers, kitchens, ladies' bowers, Cities and towns and castles and high towers, Manors and barns and stables, aye and dairies- This causes it that there are now no fairies.

For where was wont to walk full many an elf, Right there walks now the limiter himself In noons and afternoons and in mornings, Saying his matins and such holy things, As he goes round his district in his gown. Women may now go safely up and down, In every copse or under every tree; There is no other incubus, than he, And would do them nothing but dishonour. And so befell it that this King Arthur Had at his court a lusty bachelor Who, on a day, came riding from river; And happened that, alone as she was born, He saw a maiden walking through the corn, From whom, in spite of all she did and said, Straightway by force he took her maidenhead; For which violation was there such clamour, And such appealing unto King Arthur, That soon condemned was this knight to be dead By course of law, and should have lost his head, Peradventure, such being the statute then; But that the other ladies and the queen So long prayed of the king to show him grace, He granted life, at last, in the law's place, And gave him to the queen, as she should will, Whether she'd save him, or his blood should spill.

The queen she thanked the king with all her might, And after this, thus spoke she to the knight, When she'd an opportunity, one day: "You stand yet," said she, "in such poor a way That for your life you've no security. I'll grant you life if you can tell to me What thing it is that women most desire.

Be wise, and keep your neck from iron dire! And if you cannot tell it me anon, Then will I give you license to be gone A twelvemonth and a day, to search and learn Sufficient answer in this grave concern. And your knight's word I'll have, ere forth you pace, To yield your body to me in this place. And at the last he chose that he would wend And come again upon the twelvemonth's end, With such an answer as God might purvey; And so he took his leave and went his way.

He sought out every house and every place Wherein he hoped to find that he had grace To learn what women love the most of all; But nowhere ever did it him befall To find, upon the question stated here, Two, persons who agreed with statement clear.

Some said that women all loved best riches, Some said, fair fame, and some said, prettiness; Some, rich array, some said 'twas lust abed And often to be widowed and re-wed. Some said that our poor hearts are aye most eased When we have been most flattered and thus pleased And he went near the truth, I will not lie; A man may win us best with flattery; And with attentions and with busyness We're often limed, the greater and the less.

And some say, too, that we do love the best To be quite free to do our own behest, And that no man reprove us for our vice, But saying we are wise, take our advice. For truly there is no one of us all, If anyone shall rub us on a gall, That will not kick because he tells the truth.

Try, and he'll find, who does so, I say sooth. No matter how much vice we have within, We would be held for wise and clean of sin. And some folk say that great delight have we To be held constant, also trustworthy, And on one purpose steadfastly to dwell, And not betray a thing that men may tell. But that tale is not worth a rake's handle; By God, we women can no thing conceal, As witness Midas.

Would you hear the tale? Ovid, among some other matters small, Said Midas had beneath his long curled hair, Two ass's ears that grew in secret there, The which defect he hid, as best he might, Full cunningly from every person's sight, And, save his wife, no one knew of it, no. He loved her most, and trusted her also; And he prayed of her that to no creature She'd tell of his disfigurement impure.

She swore him: Nay, for all this world to win She would do no such villainy or sin And cause her husband have so foul a name; Nor would she tell it for her own deep shame. Nevertheless, she thought she would have died Because so long the secret must she hide; It seemed to swell so big about her heart That some word from her mouth must surely start; And since she dared to tell it to no man, Down to a marsh, that lay hard by, she ran; Till she came there her heart was all afire, And as a bittern booms in the quagmire, She laid her mouth low to the water down: "Betray me not, you sounding water blown," Said she, "I tell it to none else but you: Long ears like asses' has my husband two!

Now is my heart at ease, since that is out; I could no longer keep it, there's no doubt. The rest of all this tale, if you would hear, Read Ovid: in his book does it appear. This knight my tale is chiefly told about When what he went for he could not find out, That is, the thing that women love the best, Most saddened was the spirit in his breast; But home he goes, he could no more delay.

The day was come when home he turned his way; And on his way it chanced that he should ride In all his care, beneath a forest's side, And there he saw, a-dancing him before, Full four and twenty ladies, maybe more; Toward which dance eagerly did he turn In hope that there some wisdom he should learn. But truly, ere he came upon them there, The dancers vanished all, he knew not where. No creature saw he that gave sign of life, Save, on the greensward sitting, an old wife; A fouler person could no man devise.

Before the knight this old wife did arise, And said: "Sir knight, hence lies no travelled way. Tell me what thing you seek, and by your fay. Perchance you'll find it may the better be; These ancient folk know many things," said she. Let's see which is the proudest of them all That wears upon her hair kerchief or caul, Shall dare say no to that which I shall teach; Let us go now and without longer speech. When they were come unto the court, this knight Said he had kept his promise as was right, And ready was his answer, as he said.

Full many a noble wife, and many a maid, And many a widow, since they are so wise, The queen herself sitting as high justice, Assembled were, his answer there to hear; And then the knight was bidden to appear. Command was given for silence in the hall, And that the knight should tell before them all What thing all worldly women love the best.

This knight did not stand dumb, as does a beast, But to this question presently answered With manly voice, so that the whole court heard: "My liege lady, generally," said he, "Women desire to have the sovereignty As well upon their husband as their love, And to have mastery their man above; This thing you most desire, though me you kill Do as you please, I am here at your will. And with that word up started the old wife Whom he had seen a-sitting on the green.

Before the court's dismissed, give me my right. Before the court, now, pray I you, sir knight," Said she, "that you will take me for your wife; For well you know that I have saved your life. If this be false, say nay, upon your fay! That I so promised I will not protest. But for God's love pray make a new request. Take all my wealth and let my body go.

For though I may be foul and old and poor, I will not, for all metal and all ore That from the earth is dug or lies above, Be aught except your wife and your true love. Now, peradventure, would some men say here, That, of my negligence, I take no care To tell you of the joy and all the array That at the wedding feast were seen that day. Make a brief answer to this thing I shall; I say, there was no joy or feast at all; There was but heaviness and grievous sorrow; For privately he wedded on the morrow, And all day, then, he hid him like an owl; So sad he was, his old wife looked so foul.

Great was the woe the knight had in his thought When he, with her, to marriage bed was brought; He rolled about and turned him to and fro.

His old wife lay there, always smiling so, And said: "O my dear husband, ben'cite! Fares every knight with wife as you with me? Is this the custom in King Arthur's house? Are knights of his all so fastidious?

I am your own true love and, more, your wife; And I am she who saved your very life; And truly, since I've never done you wrong, Why do you treat me so, this first night long?

You act as does a man who's lost his wit; What is my fault? For God's love tell me it, And it shall be amended, if I may. It will not be amended ever, no! You are so loathsome, and so old also, And therewith of so low a race were born, It's little wonder that I toss and turn. Would God my heart would break within my breast! Find him who is most virtuous alway, Alone or publicly, and most tries aye To do whatever noble deeds he can, And take him for the greatest gentleman.

Christ wills we claim from Him gentility, Not from ancestors of landocracy. For though they give us all their heritage, For which we claim to be of high lineage, Yet can they not bequeath, in anything, To any of us, their virtuous living, That made men say they had gentility, And bade us follow them in like degree.

For God knows that men may full often find A lord's son doing shame and villainy; And he that prizes his gentility In being born of some old noble house, With ancestors both noble and virtuous, But will himself do naught of noble deeds Nor follow him to whose name he succeeds, He is not gentle, be he duke or earl; For acting churlish makes a man a churl.

Gentility is not just the renown Of ancestors who have some greatness shown, In which you have no portion of your own. Your own gentility comes from God alone; Thence comes our true nobility by grace, It was not willed us with our rank and place "Think how noble, as says Valerius, Was that same Tullius Hostilius, Who out of poverty rose to high estate.

Seneca and Boethius inculcate, Expressly and no doubt it thus proceeds , That he is noble who does noble deeds; And therefore, husband dear, I thus conclude: Although my ancestors mayhap were rude, Yet may the High Lord God, and so hope I, Grant me the grace to live right virtuously. Then I'll be gentle when I do begin To live in virtue and to do no sin.

And surely every man, or maid, or wife May understand that Jesus, Heaven's King, Would not have chosen vileness of living. Glad poverty's an honest thing, that's plain, Which Seneca and other clerks maintain.

Whoso will be content with poverty, I hold him rich, though not a shirt has he. And he that covets much is a poor wight, For he would gain what's all beyond his might, But he that has not, nor desires to have, Is rich, although you hold him but a knave. Poverty's this, though it seem misery- Its quality may none dispute, say I. Poverty often, when a man is low, Makes him his God and even himself to know. And poverty's an eye-glass, seems to me, Through which a man his loyal friends may see. Since you've received no injury from me, Then why reproach me for my poverty.

Nevertheless, since I know your delight, I'll satisfy your worldly appetite. Now choose which you like better and reply. I care not which it be of these things two; For if you like it, that suffices me. I pray God I go mad, and so declare, If I be not to you as good and true As ever wife was since the world was new.

And, save I be, at dawn, as fairly seen As any lady, empress, or great queen That is between the east and the far west, Do with my life and death as you like best. Throw back the curtain and see how it is. And she obeyed his wish in everything That might give pleasure to his love-liking.

And thus they lived unto their lives' fair end, In perfect joy; and Jesus to us send Meek husbands, and young ones, and fresh in bed, And good luck to outlive them that we wed. And I pray Jesus to cut short the lives Of those who'll not be governed by their wives; And old and querulous niggards with their pence, And send them soon a mortal pestilence!

Tocmai am terminat-o de citit The Love Unfeigned And loveth him, the which that right for love Upon a cros, our soules for to beye, First starf, and roos, and sit in the hevene a-bove; For he nil falsen no wight, dar I seye, That wol his herte al hoolly on him leye. And sin he best to love is, and most meke, What nedeth feyned loves for to seke? Yeats - The Sorrow of Love HE quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves, The full round moon and the star-laden sky, And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves, Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips, And with you came the whole of the world's tears, And all the sorrows of her labouring ships, And all the burden of her myriad years. And now the sparrows warring in the eaves, The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky, And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.

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View Full Version : Poezia. Asa ca Asta ar fi ultima mea lecturaapoi m-am decis sa-l devorez pe Chaucer. Scuzati lungimea The elf-queen, with her jolly company, Danced oftentimes on many a green mead; This was the old opinion, as I read. I speak of many hundred years ago; But now no man can see the elves, you know.

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