Джон КитсLA BELLE DAME SANS MERCIПРЕКРАСНАЯ ДАМА НЕБЛАГОДАРНА 
 O what can ail thee, knight at arms...
   
  O what can ail thee, knight at arms,
 Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither'd from the lake,
 And no birds sing.
O What can ail thee, knight at arms,
 So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
 And the harvest's done.
I see a lily on thy brow
 With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
 Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
 Full beautiful, a fairy's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
 And her eyes were wild.
I made a garland for her head,
 And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She look'd at me as she did love,
 And made sweet moan.
I set her on my pacing steed,
 And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
 A fairy's song.
She found me roots of relish sweet,
 And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
 I love thee true.
She took me to her elfin grot,
 And there she wept, and sigh'd full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
 With kisses four.
And there she lulled me asleep,
 And there I dream'd—Ah! woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dream'd
 On the cold hill's side.
I saw pale kings, and princes too,
 Pale warriors, death pale were they all;
They cried—"La belle dame sans merci
 Hath thee in thrall!"
I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam
 With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here
 On the cold hill's side.
And this is why I sojourn here,
 Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
 And no birds sing. 
           Revised Version
;1
Ah what can ail thee, wretched wight,
 Alone and palely loitering;
The sedge is wither’d from the lake,
 And no birds sing.
;2
Ah what can ail thee, wretched wight,
 So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
 And the harvest’s done.
;3
I see a lilly on thy brow,
 With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
 Fast withereth too.
;4
I met a lady in the meads
 Full beautiful, a fairy’s child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
 And her eyes were wild.
;5
I set her on my pacing steed,
 And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
 A faery’s song.
;6
I made a garland for her head,
 And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She look’d at me as she did love,
 And made sweet moan.
;7
She found me roots of relish sweet,
 And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said,
 I love thee true.
;8
She took me to her elfin grot,
 And there she gaz’d and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild sad eyes—
 So kiss’d to sleep.
;9
And there we slumber’d on the moss,
 And there I dream’d, ah woe betide
The latest dream I ever dream’d
 On the cold hill side.
;10
I saw pale kings, and princes too,
 Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cry’d—"Le belle Dame sans mercy
 Hath thee in thrall!"
;11
I saw their starv’d lips in the gloom
 With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke, and found me here
 On the cold hill side.
;12
And this is why I sojourn here
 Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither’d from the lake,
 And no birds sing.