J.Kochanowski - Do miłości.docx

(36 KB) Pobierz


15ero.jpg
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Do miłości                                                                                                                                                                                     Matko skrzydlatych Miłości,                                                                                                                                                                     Szafarko trosk i radości,                                                                                                                                                                  Wsiądź na swój wóz uzłocony,                                                                                                                                                                          Białym łabędziem zwierzony!                                                                                                                                                                         Puść się z nieba w szalonym biegu,                                                                                                                                                                                         A staw się na wiślnym brzegu,                                                                                                                                                                              Gdzie ku twej ćci ołtarz nowy,                                                                                                                                                                    Stawię swą ręką darmowy.                                                                                                                                                                                       Nie dam ci krwawej ofiary,                                                                                                                                                                                      Bo co mają srogie dary                                                                                                                                                                                                        U boginiej dobrotliwej                                                                                                                                                                                            Czynić i światu życzliwej?                                                                                                                                                                                   Ale dam kadzidełko wonne.                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Które nam kraje postronne                                                                                                                                                                                                 Posyłają; dam śliczne                                                                                                                                                                                    Zioła w swych barwach rozliczne.                                                                                                                                                                        Masz fijołki, masz leliją,                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Masz majeran i szałwiją,                                                                                                                                                                                                   Masz wdzięczny swój kwiat różany,                                                                                                                                                                                             To biały, a  to rumiany..                                                                                                                                                                                         Tym cię błagam, o królowa                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Bogatego Cypru owa                                                                                                                                                                                                   Albo rózne serca zgodzisz,                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Albo i mnie wyswobodzisz.                                                                                                                                                                                                  Ale raczej nas oboje                                                                                                                                                                                Wzów pod złote jarzmo swoje,                                                                                                         ...

Zgłoś jeśli naruszono regulamin