Musica de Marianne Faithfull del Genero: Lyrics Todos los artistas y cantantes de música de Lyrics son individuos talentosos y apasionados que dedican su vida a crear y compartir su arte con el mundo. Su música de Marianne Faithfull tiene el poder de emocionarnos, inspirarnos y conectarnos a un nivel profundo. En este blog LetrasFM, exploraremos el mundo de los artistas y cantantes de música del genero Lyrics, destacando su dedicación, creatividad y contribuciones a la cultura.
Los artistas y cantantes de música tienen la capacidad única de expresar sus emociones y experiencias a través de su voz y talento musical. A través de sus letras y melodías, nos llevan a un viaje emocional y nos permiten conectarnos con nuestras propias emociones.
Además de su talento musical, los artistas y cantantes son verdaderos profesionales en su campo. Trabajan arduamente para perfeccionar su
La Belle Dame Sans Merci Song Lyrics
La Belle Dame Sans Merci by Marianne Faithfull Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake
And no birds sing
Oh 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 faery'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 looked 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 faery'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 sighed full sore
And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
With kisses four
And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed - Ah, woe betide!
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill 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 starved lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide
And I awoke and found me here
On the cold hill's side
And that is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering
Though sedge is withered from the lake
And no birds sing