while weak and tired, sad reflections submerged
bent over a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, nodding
, nearly napping, suddenly I heard a tapping,
as one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"It " I muttered, slightly touching a visitor
at the door of my room. That's all, nothing more. "
Ah, distinctly I remember Him in the bleak December;
spectra dying ember wrought on the ground;
Eagerly I wished the new day
in vain to borrow From my books
which would give respite to my pain.
sorrow for the lost Lenore,
heating, the angels named Lenore.
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad, lazy, chilling
silk red curtains
llenábame
fantastic terrors never felt before. And now here, standing
still the beating of my heart,
I repeat:
"It's a visitor at the door of my room
trying to enter. Any visitor
that my soul grew wants to enter.
That's all, nothing more. "
Presently my soul grew stronger,
and now without hesitation:
" Lord I said or Madam, truly your forgiveness
beg, but the fact is that sleepy
when you came to play slightly
so slight you came to call,
to knock on the door of my room
That I scarce was sure I heard you. "
And then I opened wide the door: Darkness
, and nothing else.
Deep into that darkness peering
long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal
ever dared to dream.
But the silence silent unfathomable stillness,
and the only word there spoken
was the whispered word: "Lenore!"
pronounced in a whisper, and the echo
it back in a whisper: "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing else.
Returning to my room, my whole soul,
he burns all my soul within me,
I soon heard again playing harder.
"Certainly " he said, certainly
something at my window lattice.
Therefore, let you see what happens there,
and penetrate to the mystery.
Let my heart be still a moment,
and thus can penetrate the mystery. "
is the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the door,
and flutter,
entered a stately raven
the old days of yore.
no sign of reverence,
stay for a moment;
with mien of lord or lady
came to rest on the bust of Pallas
on my door. Perched
, motionless, and nothing else.
Then this ebony bird
beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
the grave and stern decorum
of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven " he said.
no craven.
ghastly grim and ancient raven.
wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me your name on the Night's Plutonian shore! "
Quoth the Raven: " Never again. "
Much I marveled bird ungainly
could speak so plainly,
though its answer little meaning.
little relevancy bore. For we can not
but agreeing that no living human being
has been blessed with seeing bird
sitting on his chamber door,
bird or beast upon the sculptured bust
Pallas in his chamber door
With such name "Never again."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust.
the words uttered, as
pouring his soul in that one word.
Nothing further then he
did not lift a pen.
And then I said, scarcely more than muttered
" Other friends have gone before;
morrow he will leave me,
as I left my hopes. "
Then the bird said "Never again."
Overwhelmed by breaking the silence
so aptly spoken,
" certainly, I thought, no doubt says
is all he knows, his solo repertoire, learned
a disaster unhappy master whom wicked
persecuted, harassed without truce
until his mantra only had a sense
until the dirges of his hope
melancholy burden took only
of "Never, never."
But the Raven still beguiling
my sad soul into smiling
wheeled a cushioned seat
front of bird and bust and door;
and then sinking the velvet,
started to linking Fancy unto fancy,
thinking what this ominous bird of yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly,
gaunt and ominous bird of yore wanted
croaking: "Never again,"
In this brooding, sitting without a word,
To the fowl whose eyes, as, firebrands,
burned into my chest.
This and more I sat divining,
with his head
in the velvet lining pad
caressed by lamplight;
in the lining of purple velvet
caressed by lamplight
¡que ella no oprimiría, ¡ay!, nunca jamás!
Entonces me pareció que el aire
se tornaba más denso, perfumado
por invisible incensario mecido por serafines
cuyas pisadas tintineaban en el piso alfombrado.
"¡Miserable -dije-, tu Dios te ha concedido,
por estos ángeles te ha otorgado una tregua,
tregua de nepente de tus recuerdos de Leonora!
¡Apura, oh, quaff this nepenthe
and forget this lost Lenore! "
Quoth the Raven: " Never again. "
" Prophet! cried, devilish thing!
prophet still, if bird or devil
Tempter sent, or thrown
by the storm to the shelter bleak and unflinching,
on this desert land enchanted
On this home by horror haunted!
Prophet, tell me, truly, I implore you,
is there, tell me is there balm in Gilead?
Tell me, tell me, I implore! "
Quoth the Raven: " Never again. "
" Prophet! exclaimed, "thing of evil!
prophet still, if bird or devil!
For that heaven that bends above our heads,
that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, in the remote Eden
have on their clasp a sainted maiden
the angels named Lenore
shall clasp a rare and radiant maiden
whom the angels name Lenore! "
Quoth the Raven: "Never again."
"Be that word our sign of parting
bird or fiend," I shouted presumptuous.
Back to the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore.
Leave no black plume as a token of the lie
that thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken.
quit the bust above my door.
thy beak from out my heart
and take thy form from off my door. "
Quoth the Raven: "Never again."
And the Raven, never flew.
still is sitting, still is sitting
in the pale bust of Pallas.
on the lintel of the door of my room.
And his eyes have the appearance
of a demon that is dreaming.
And the light of lamp o'er him streaming
lies down his shadow. And my soul
from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor,
not be released. Never again!
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