William Blake: Auguries of Innocence / Znamenja nevinosti

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill'd with doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his Master's Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus'd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear.
A Skylark wounded in the wing,
A Cherubim does cease to sing.
The Game Cock clipp'd and arm'd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright.
Every Wolf's & Lion's howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here & there,
Keeps the Human Soul from Care.
The Lamb misus'd breeds public strife
And yet forgives the Butcher's Knife.
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that won't believe.
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belov'd by Men.
He who the Ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by Woman lov'd.
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spider's enmity.
He who torments the Chafer's sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night.
The Catterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mother's grief.
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly,
For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar.
The Beggar's Dog & Widow's Cat,
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat.
The Gnat that sings his Summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envy's Foot.
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artist's Jealousy.
The Prince's Robes & Beggars' Rags
Are Toadstools on the Miser's Bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for Joy & Woe;
And when this we rightly know
Thro' the World we safely go.
Joy & Woe are woven fine,
A Clothing for the Soul divine;
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The Babe is more than swadling Bands;
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made, & born were hands,
Every Farmer Understands.
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity.
This is caught by Females bright
And return'd to its own delight.
The Bleat, the Bark, Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heaven's Shore.
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of death.
The Beggar's Rags, fluttering in Air,
Does to Rags the Heavens tear.
The Soldier arm'd with Sword & Gun,
Palsied strikes the Summer's Sun.
The poor Man's Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Afric's Shore.
One Mite wrung from the Labrer's hands
Shall buy & sell the Miser's lands:
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole Nation sell & buy.
He who mocks the Infant's Faith
Shall be mock'd in Age & Death.
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the Infant's faith
Triumph's over Hell & Death.
The Child's Toys & the Old Man's Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons.
The Questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to Reply.
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out.
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesar's Laurel Crown.
Nought can deform the Human Race
Like the Armour's iron brace.
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow.
A Riddle or the Cricket's Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply.
The Emmet's Inch & Eagle's Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile.
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you Please.
If the Sun & Moon should doubt
They'd immediately Go out.
To be in a Passion you Good may do,
But no Good if a Passion is in you.
The Whore & Gambler, by the State
Licenc'd, build that Nation's Fate.
The Harlot's cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old England's winding Sheet.
The Winner's Shout, the Loser's Curse,
Dance before dead England's Hearse.
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn & every Night
Some are Born to sweet Delight.
Some ar Born to sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night.
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro' the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to Perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light.
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in the Night,
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day.

Kad bih u zrnu pijeska vidio svijet
i raj u divljemu cvatu
držao beskraj u prstiju pet
i vječnost u jednom satu.

Kad je crvendać u kavezu
raj je s gnjevom u savezu.
Kad je goluba puna kuća,
paklom se širi jarost vruća.
Gladan pas pred dvorom gospodara
kazuje pad zemaljskih vladara.
Konj što na putu udaran biva
za krvcom čovjeka nebo zaziva.
U lovu kad gonjeni zec rida
vlakno se iz mozga kida.
Poljska ševa s ranjenim krilom:
kerubinu pjesmu oteše silom.
Kad pijevca se na borbu tjera,
suncu se sva groza smjera.
Čim urlik vuka i lava stiže,
ljudsku dušu iz pakla diže.
Divlja košuta što gdjegdje luta,
Čuva nam dušu sred dobrog puta.
Janje pozlijeđeno nemir stvara,
a ipak nam prašta nož mesara.
Netopir što lijeta u smiraj noći 
ostavi um bez vjere moći.
Sova što sred tame budi,
Zazorom je nevjernih ljudi.
Ako pak palčića što zaboli,
nikog više nema da te voli.
Tko na vola srdžbu si preseli,
nijedna mu se djeva ne veseli.
Objesnika što je muhe udes
osjetit će pauka golem bijes.
A onaj što duh kornjaša slama,
gradi sjenicu dok svud je tama.
Gusjenica na listu što puzi
zrcalo je majčinoj ti tuzi.
Ne ubij ni moljca nit leptira,
jer posljednji sud blizu ti svira.
Tko vježba konja za ratnu perjanicu,
neće nikad proći polarnu granicu.
Udovino mače i prosjakov pas,
nahrani ih za tusti svoj stas.
Uš što pjeva poj sred ljeta,
otrov svoj crpi iz kleveta.
Otrov daždevnjaka i guja
znoj je s nogu zavisti što buja.
Otrov pčele medarice
ljubomora je slikarice.
Prinčeve halje i prosjaka dronjci
plijesan su gdje su škrčevi novci.
Zlonamjernu istinu kaži:
ta gora je od svih laži.
Tako i treba da bude sad;
čovjek je stvoren za radost i jad.
Kad sve to odista shvaćamo,
kroza svijet sigurno koračamo.
Radost i jad fino se tkaju,
halju božanskoj duši daju.
Iza svakoga jada i sivila
radost viri s tkanjem od svila.
Dijete je od povoja nešto više;
u čitavu se svijetu to zna i piše.
Alate stvorismo, a rodismo ruke,
za seljaka tu nema nauke.
Suza što gdjegdje kane,
Dijete vječnosti postane,
Suđenica po nju odmah hita,
i vraća je posred svog ushita.
Blejanje, lavež, mukanje i graja
valovi su što biju na žalu raja.
Dijete što pred štapom drhti
piše osvetu u carstvu smrti.
Dronjci prosjaka što vihore
Trgaju sva nebesa gore.
Vojnik s pištoljem i mačem
Uzet sunce gađa sve jače.
Novčić siromaha ostavi traga
više no sva afrička blaga.
Jedan novčić težaka što grca
kupuje sva imanja škrca;
ili, ako se štiti s visina,
bogata bit će sva domovina.
Tko se djetetovoj vjeri ruga
ruglo će biti sred života duga.
Tko će dijete sumnji naučiti,
u trulom će se grobu navijek mučiti.
Ako ćeš vjeru djeteta cijeniti,
pakao i smrt ti ćeš iskorijeniti.
Dječje igračke i starčeve kobi
plodovi su tih dviju dobi.
Pitalac što lukav sjedi,
nema znanja o besjedi.
Tko na sumnju odgovara,
svjetlo znanja mu izgara.
Najjači otrov, nema mu premca
iz Cezarova je lovor-vijenca.
Ništa ne grdi ljudsku rasu
ko oklop na čovječjem stasu.
Kad dragulj za ukras plugu se bira,
zavist se klanja pred umijećem mira.
Zagonetka ili cvrčkov poj
odgovor je pravi sumnji svoj.
Mravlji palac i orlove milje,
već se jadna filozofija smije.
Tko sumnja u to što smo vidjeli,
spasa nema, nek radi što želi.
Da su mjesec i sunce sred dvojbe,
nestali bi bez ikakve borbe.
Strašću se možda dobro ti sprema,
al ne kad te obuzme posvema.
Kad kurvu i kockara država
dopusti, sudbu nam održava.
Sred ulice bludnice usta otrov
tkat će Engleske mrtvački pokrov.
Krik pobjednika, gubitnikov bijes,
plešu gdje je mrtve Engleske lijes.
Svake noći i svaku zoru
neki se rode u jad najgoru,
svake zore i svake noći
neki se rode u slatkoći.
Neki se rode u slatkoći,
neki se rode u beskraja noći.
U laž nas sile da um skoči,
kad ne vidimo kroz svoje oči,
što rode se sred mraka, umru sred mraka,
kad duša sniva sred svjetlosti zraka.
Bog se javlja i bog je svjetlina
jadnim dušama što žive sred tmina;
U obličju čovjeka on se čini
u carstvu dana, a ne u tmini.