„Ruhm ist verkleidete Liebe.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Eine Ermahnung
Zitate von Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Percy Bysshe Shelley
Geburtstag: 4. August 1792
Todesdatum: 8. Juli 1822
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Percy Bysshe Shelley [ˈpɜːsi bɪʃ ˈʃɛli] war ein britischer Schriftsteller der Romantik. Er war ein Verfechter des Atheismus.
Zitate Percy Bysshe Shelley
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„Wenn Winter kommt, kann Frühling weit entfernt dann sein?“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ode an den Westwind
„Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley, The Complete Poems
„I have drunken deep of joy,
And I will taste no other wine tonight.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Cenci (1819), Act I, sc. iii, l. 88
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„Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: The One remains, the many change and pass;
Heaven's light forever shines, Earth's shadows fly;
Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,
Stains the white radiance of Eternity,
Until Death tramples it to fragments.
St. LII
„From the contagion of the world's slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not and torture not again;
From the contagion of the world's slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain.
St. XL
„He hath awakened from the dream of life—
'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife
Invulnerable nothings.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep—
He hath awakened from the dream of life—
'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife
Invulnerable nothings.
St. XXXIX
„She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise!
She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain
She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
St. X
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„I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.
St. 7 (a cenotaph is an empty tomb or a monument erected in honor of a person who is buried elsewhere)
„I never was attached to that great sect,
Whose doctrine is, that each one should select
Out of the crowd a mistress or a friend,
And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend
To cold oblivion“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: Thy wisdom speaks in me, and bids me dare
Beacon the rocks on which high hearts are wreckt.
I never was attached to that great sect,
Whose doctrine is, that each one should select
Out of the crowd a mistress or a friend,
And all the rest, though fair and wise, commend
To cold oblivion, though it is in the code
Of modern morals, and the beaten road
Which those poor slaves with weary footsteps tread,
Who travel to their home among the dead
By the broad highway of the world, and so
With one chained friend, — perhaps a jealous foe,
The dreariest and the longest journey go.
l. 147
„I met Murder on the way —
He had a mask like Castlereagh“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: I met Murder on the way —
He had a mask like Castlereagh —
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven blood-hounds followed him.
St. 2
„Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate
With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon
Of human thought or form, where art thou gone?“
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
Context: Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate
With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon
Of human thought or form, where art thou gone?
Why dost thou pass away and leave our state,
This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate?
Ask why the sunlight not for ever
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain-river,
Why aught should fail and fade that once is shown,
Why fear and dream and death and birth
Cast on the daylight of this earth
Such gloom, why man has such a scope
For love and hate, despondency and hope?
St. 2
