Morris i Tolkien

Ten wiersz znalazłem zupełnie przypadkiem, i skojarzył mi się natychmiast z wczesnymi wierszami Tolkiena, jakie znaleźć można chociażby w Books of Lost Tales. Wiadomo, że Tolkien kochał i naśladował twórczość Morrisa; czy ten akurat wiersz znał? Pewnie tak. Czy go szczególnie lubił? Nie wiemy. Może w jakimś opracowaniu ktoś z tolkienologów wspomina o tym wierszu, o jego podobieństwie do chociażby Mar Vanwa Tyaliéva – nie pamiętam. (Dziury w mózgu robią się coraz większe...)

William Morris
A Garden by the Sea

I know a little garden-close,
Set thick with lily and red rose,
Where I would wander if I might
From dewy morn to dewy night,
And have one with me wandering.

And though within it no birds sing,
And though no pillared house is there,
And though the apple-boughs are bare
Of fruit and blossom, would to God
Her feet upon the green grass trod,
And I beheld them as before.

There comes a murmur from the shore,
And in the close two fair streams are,
Drawn from the purple hills afar,
Drawn down unto the restless sea:
Dark hills whose heath-bloom feeds no bee,
Dark shore no ship has ever seen,
Tormented by the billows green
Whose murmur comes unceasingly
Unto the place for which I cry.
For which I cry both day and night,
For which I let slip all delight,
Whereby I grow both deaf and blind,
Careless to win, unskilled to find,
And quick to lose what all men seek.
Yet tottering as I am and weak,
Still have I left a little breath
To seek within the jaws of death
An entrance to that happy place,
To seek the unforgotten face,
Once seen, once kissed, once reft from me
Anigh the murmuring of the sea.