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edit La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Hey, you! Why are you wandering around by yourself?
Well, the grass is dead and all the birds are gone.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

So, why are you going about unshaven and sad-looking?
The squirrels have taken all the nuts.

I see a lily on thy brow
With anguish moist and fever dew,
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

Translation: know you've got dead flowers on your face?

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful, a faery's child:
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I was drinking some mead and started having a vision about a beautiful, wild-eyed woman.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.

So, I put this woman on a horse and she started singing. I was entranced.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

I put flowers in her hair and on her wrists, and she started making weird noises.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew,
And sure in language strange she said,
"I love thee true!"

She made me, interesting dinner and started speaking in a foreign language. I think it meant, "I love you."

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gazed and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild, sad eyes---
So kissed to sleep.

She took me to what she called in her language an "elfin grot". I think it means "mossy hill" or something. She started making weird noises again. I kissed her and she fell asleep.

And there we slumbered on the moss,
And there I dreamed, ah! woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dreamed
On the cold hill side.

So, we fell asleep outside on some moss and I dreamed dreams I've never dreamed before. (Also, it's lucky I didn't die of hypothermia.)

I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cried---"La belle Dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!"

In this dream, dead zombie kings started screaming at me in French.

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill side.

I think that some kind of warning was spewing from their decaying lips. The vision freaked me out so much that I woke with a start. I then realized how freezing cold it was!

And that is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

So, I hope that explains why I'm wandering alone through the dead grass and why all the birds are gone.

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