Goblin Market

Christina Rossetti, Arthur Rackham

• Editorial: Dover Publications
• Año: 2012
• ISBN:
  9780486132006
• Categoría: Littérature
• Categoría: Les femmes dans la poésie

This lovely gift edition of Christina Rossetti's most famous poem will enchant readers of all ages. For children, the story offers a captivating adventure into a land of fantasy. For adults, it's a lyric and sensual allegory of temptation, sacrifice, and salvation. Arthur Rackham, a peerless illustrator of fairy tales and supernatural creatures, portrays the poem's otherworldly attractions in 4 color and 20 black-and-white images plus a reproduction of a rare watercolor.

COBLIN • MARKET

MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry :
“ Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy :
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,

Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries ;—
All ripe together
In summer weather,—
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly ;
Come buy, come buy :
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,

Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try :
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye ;
Come buy, come buy.”

Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes :

Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
“ Lie close,” Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head :
“ We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits :
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots ? ”
“ Come buy,” call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
“ Oh,” cried Lizzie, “ Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men.”
Lizzie covered up her eyes,
Covered close lest they should look ;
Laura reared her glossy head,
And whispered like the restless brook :
“ Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds’ weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious ;

“ Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie, Down the glen tramp little men ”

How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes.”
“No,” said Lizzle : “ No, no, no ;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us.”
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran :
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.

One had a cat’s face,
One whisked a tail,
One tramped at a rat’s pace,
One crawled like a snail,
One like a wombat prowled obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.

Laura stretched her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from ...