J.Morsztyn - Do galerników.docx

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          Do galerników – sonet                                                                                                                                                                          Strapieni ludzie! Źle się z wami dzieje                                                                                                                Lecz miłość ze mną okrutniej poczyna                                                                                                                Was człowiek a mnie silny bóg zacina,                                                                                                                Wy macie wyniść, jam bez tej nadzieje.                                                                                                                              Was spólne słońce, mnie własny jad grzeje                                                                                                  Was  pręt od grzbieta, mnie z serca zacina                                                                                                  Wam nogi łańcuch, a mnie szyje spina,                                                                                                                Wam ręka tylko, a mnie dusza mdleje.                                                                                                  Was wiatr, mnie ból ściska na przemiany                                                                                                  Was prawo, mnie gwałt trzyma w tym więzieniu,                                                                                    Wam podczas styrnik sfolguje zbłagany,                                                                                                                Ja darmo czekam ulgi w uciszeniu,                                                                                                                A w tym jest mój stan nad wasz niewytrwany,                                                                                                  Że wy na wodzie, ja cierpię w płomieniu.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          ...