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Nekog sna zasjeni šara.
Ležah tu gdje gusta trava
Sakri izgubljenog mrava.
Nevoljnog, od puta snena,
Noć ga ovi, izgubljena,
Tu gdje mu se smetnu puti,
Slomljena ga mogoh čuti.
"Djeco, je l` vam suze sjaje?
Čujte oca uzdisaje!
Zjene tužne sad im zjape,
Vračaju se, za mnom vape."
Požalih ga - "Što ću?" - rekoh.
No, krijesnica, nedaleko,
Progovara: "Tko, sred jada,
Stražaru se noćnom nada?
Moje svjetlo rasvjetljuje,
Oko njega bube zuje.
Sad zuj slijedi i ne pitaj;
Lutalico, kući hitaj!"
William Blake
A Dream
Once a dream did weave a shade
O'er my angel-guarded bed,
That an emmet lost its way
Where on grass methought I lay.
Troubled, wildered, and forlorn,
Dark, benighted, travel-worn,
Over many a tangle spray,
All heart-broke, I heard her say:
'Oh my children! do they cry,
Do they hear their father sigh?
Now they look abroad to see,
Now return and weep for me.'
Pitying, I dropped a tear:
But I saw a glow-worm near,
Who replied, 'What wailing wight
Calls the watchman of the night?
'I am set to light the ground,
While the beetle goes his round:
Follow now the beetle's hum;
Little wanderer, hie thee home!'
William Blake
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