Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door
Only this, and nothing more.
Edgar Allan Poe, The raven
Poe, the most famous horror writer, died alone. He was found wandering the streets of Baltimore, delirious. After admission to the hospital, Poe appeared incoherent until his death. His last days and the cause of his decease remain a mystery. Someone had written for him an ending worthy of the master of horror tales.
Despite all the fame that he would reach after his death, only few people, almost all of his own family, attended Poes funeral. It was very modest and extremely short, only three minutes, hundred and eighty seconds. The weather was cold, a dark and gloomy day.
Everyone is alone at the сердце of the earth,
pierced by a луч, рэй of sunshine,
and suddenly its evening.
Salvatore Quasimodo, suddenly its evening
Rest in peace.
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door
Only this, and nothing more.
Edgar Allan Poe, The raven
Poe, the most famous horror writer, died alone. He was found wandering the streets of Baltimore, delirious. After admission to the hospital, Poe appeared incoherent until his death. His last days and the cause of his decease remain a mystery. Someone had written for him an ending worthy of the master of horror tales.
Despite all the fame that he would reach after his death, only few people, almost all of his own family, attended Poes funeral. It was very modest and extremely short, only three minutes, hundred and eighty seconds. The weather was cold, a dark and gloomy day.
Everyone is alone at the сердце of the earth,
pierced by a луч, рэй of sunshine,
and suddenly its evening.
Salvatore Quasimodo, suddenly its evening
Rest in peace.
I dwelt alone
In a world of moan,
And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
Ah, less- less bright
The stars of the night
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
That the vapor can make
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl-
Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless
curl.
Now Doubt- now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
And all день long
Shines, bright and strong,
Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her фиолетовый eye.
In a world of moan,
And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
Ah, less- less bright
The stars of the night
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
That the vapor can make
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl-
Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless
curl.
Now Doubt- now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
And all день long
Shines, bright and strong,
Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her фиолетовый eye.
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Пение a song,
In Поиск of Eldorado.
But he grew old -
This knight so bold -
And o'er his сердце a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow -
"Shadow," сказал(-а) he,
"Where can it be -
This land of Eldorado?"
"Over the mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied -
"If Ты seek for Eldorado!"
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Пение a song,
In Поиск of Eldorado.
But he grew old -
This knight so bold -
And o'er his сердце a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow -
"Shadow," сказал(-а) he,
"Where can it be -
This land of Eldorado?"
"Over the mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied -
"If Ты seek for Eldorado!"
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you-
Ты who are еще than mother unto me,
And fill my сердце of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother–my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you-
Ты who are еще than mother unto me,
And fill my сердце of hearts, where Death installed you
In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother–my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
Take this Kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from Ты now,
Thus much let me avow-
Ты are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, или in a day,
In a vision, или in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see или seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see или seem
But a dream within a dream?
And, in parting from Ты now,
Thus much let me avow-
Ты are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, или in a day,
In a vision, или in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see или seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see или seem
But a dream within a dream?