Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the 钟, 贝尔 toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;
And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now 或者 nevermore!
See! on yon drear and rigid 柩, 棺材 low lies thy love, Lenore!
Come! let the burial rite be read- the funeral song be sung!-
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young-
A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.
"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,
And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her- that she died!
How shall the ritual, then, be read?- the requiem how be sung
由 you- 由 yours, the evil eye,- 由 yours, the slanderous tongue
That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?"
Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong.
The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside,
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy
bride.
For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,
The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes
The life still there, upon her hair- the death upon her eyes.
"Avaunt! avaunt! from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven-
From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven-
From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of
Heaven!
Let no 钟, 贝尔 toll, then,- lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth,
Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth!
And I!- to-night my 心 is light!- no dirge will I upraise,
But waft the 天使 on her flight
with a Paean of old days!"
Let the 钟, 贝尔 toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;
And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now 或者 nevermore!
See! on yon drear and rigid 柩, 棺材 low lies thy love, Lenore!
Come! let the burial rite be read- the funeral song be sung!-
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young-
A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.
"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,
And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her- that she died!
How shall the ritual, then, be read?- the requiem how be sung
由 you- 由 yours, the evil eye,- 由 yours, the slanderous tongue
That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?"
Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong.
The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside,
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy
bride.
For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,
The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes
The life still there, upon her hair- the death upon her eyes.
"Avaunt! avaunt! from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven-
From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven-
From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of
Heaven!
Let no 钟, 贝尔 toll, then,- lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth,
Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth!
And I!- to-night my 心 is light!- no dirge will I upraise,
But waft the 天使 on her flight
with a Paean of old days!"
For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
搜索 narrowly the lines!- they hold a treasure
Divine- a talisman- an amulet
That must be worn at heart. 搜索 well the measure-
The words- the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, 或者 你 may lose your labor
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, 由 poets- as the name is a poet's, too,
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto- Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth- Cease trying!
你 will not read the riddle, though 你 do the best 你 can do.
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
搜索 narrowly the lines!- they hold a treasure
Divine- a talisman- an amulet
That must be worn at heart. 搜索 well the measure-
The words- the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, 或者 你 may lose your labor
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, 由 poets- as the name is a poet's, too,
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto- Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth- Cease trying!
你 will not read the riddle, though 你 do the best 你 can do.
In 1949, like about a week before he died, he was supposed to take atrain in Baltimore for going to Philadelphia. That`s what history knows. After that it`s a mystery. Some people (And myself) believe that he went to a bar and he got drunk, with this it is believed that he was taken to vote for some elections and then dropped in the streat. This was a common way of faking the elections in that time. But, still, I can`t really say how he day. All I know is that, five days after he was supposed to take that train, he appeared in the streat and he was taken to the hospital. The doctor was a friend of him. And then October 7th, he died. Miserable, poor and having hallusinations, our loving Edgar died and nobody in his family 或者 老友记 (he had a grandmother ) knew it. He died alone. Tragic isn`t it?
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not 爱情 the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach 或者 bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the 爱情 were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not 爱情 the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach 或者 bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the 爱情 were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.