The Raven (乌鸦）——Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe
[First published in 1845]
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.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terro
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entranc -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently m hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the lea not a minute
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - l
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bi
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom'
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just a
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
从前一个阴郁的子夜，我独自沉思，慵懒疲竭，
沉思许多古怪而离奇、早已被人遗忘的传闻&&
当我开始打盹，几乎入睡，突然传来一阵轻擂，
仿佛有人在轻轻叩击，轻轻叩击我的房门。
&有人来了，&我轻声嘟喃，&正在叩击我的房门&&
唯此而已，别无他般。&
哦，我清楚地记得那是在萧瑟的十二月；
每一团奄奄一息的余烬都形成阴影伏在地板。
我当时真盼望翌日；&&因为我已经枉费心机
想用书来消除悲哀&&消除因失去丽诺尔的悲叹&&
因那被天使叫作丽诺尔的少女，她美丽娇艳&&
在这儿却默默无闻，直至永远。
那柔软、暗淡、飒飒飘动的每一块紫色窗布
使我心中充满前所未有的恐怖&&我毛骨惊然；
为平息我心儿停跳．我站起身反复叨念
&这是有人想进屋，在叩我的房门&&。
更深夜半有人想进屋，在叩我的房门；&&
唯此而已，别无他般。&
很快我的心变得坚强；不再犹疑，不再彷徨，
&先生，&我说，&或夫人，我求你多多包涵；
刚才我正睡意昏昏，而你来敲门又那么轻，
你来敲门又那么轻，轻轻叩击我的房门，
我差点以为没听见你&&&说着我拉开门扇；&&
唯有黑夜，别无他般。
凝视着夜色幽幽，我站在门边惊惧良久，
疑惑中似乎梦见从前没人敢梦见的梦幻；
可那未被打破的寂静，没显示任何迹象。
&丽诺尔？&便是我嗫嚅念叨的唯一字眼，
我念叨&丽诺尔！&，回声把这名字轻轻送还，
唯此而已，别无他般。
我转身回到房中，我的整个心烧灼般疼痛，
很快我又听到叩击声，比刚才听起来明显。
&肯定，&我说，&肯定有什么在我的窗棂；
让我瞧瞧是什么在那里，去把那秘密发现&&
让我的心先镇静一会儿，去把那秘密发现；&&
那不过是风，别无他般！&
我猛然推开窗户，。心儿扑扑直跳就像打鼓，
一只神圣往昔的健壮乌鸦慢慢走进我房间；
它既没向我致意问候；也没有片刻的停留；
而以绅士淑女的风度，栖在我房门的上面&&
栖在我房门上方一尊帕拉斯半身雕像上面&&
栖坐在那儿，仅如此这般。
于是这只黑鸟把我悲伤的幻觉哄骗成微笑，
以它那老成持重一本正经温文尔雅的容颜，
&虽然冠毛被剪除，&我说，&但你肯定不是懦夫，
你这幽灵般可怕的古鸦，漂泊来自夜的彼岸&&
请告诉我你尊姓大名，在黑沉沉的冥府阴间！&
乌鸦答日&永不复述。&
听见如此直率的回答，我惊叹这丑陋的乌鸦，
虽说它的回答不着边际&&与提问几乎无关；
因为我们不得不承认，从来没有活着的世人
曾如此有幸地看见一只鸟栖在他房门的面&&
鸟或兽栖在他房间门上方的半身雕像上面，
有这种名字&水不复还。&
但那只独栖于肃穆的半身雕像上的乌鸦只说了
这一句话，仿佛它倾泻灵魂就用那一个字眼。
然后它便一声不吭&&也不把它的羽毛拍动&&
直到我几乎是哺哺自语&其他朋友早已消散&&
明晨它也将离我而去&&如同我的希望已消散。&
这时那鸟说&永不复还。&
惊异于那死寂漠漠被如此恰当的回话打破，
&肯定，&我说，&这句话是它唯一的本钱，
从它不幸动主人那儿学未。一连串无情飞灾
曾接踵而至，直到它主人的歌中有了这字眼&&
直到他希望的挽歌中有了这个忧伤的字眼
&永不复还，永不复还。&&
但那只乌鸦仍然把我悲伤的幻觉哄骗成微笑，
我即刻拖了张软椅到门旁雕像下那只鸟跟前；
然后坐在天鹅绒椅垫上，我开始冥思苦想，
浮想连着浮想，猜度这不祥的古鸟何出此言&&
这只狰狞丑陋可怕不吉不祥的古鸟何出此言，
为何聒噪&永不复还。&
我坐着猜想那意见但没对那鸟说片语只言。
此时，它炯炯发光的眼睛已燃烧进我的心坎；
我依然坐在那儿猜度，把我的头靠得很舒服，
舒舒服服地靠在那被灯光凝视的天鹅绒衬垫，
但被灯光爱慕地凝视着的紫色的天鹅绒衬垫，
她将显出，啊，永不复还！
接着我想，空气变得稠密，被无形香炉熏香，
提香炉的撒拉弗的脚步声响在有簇饰的地板。
&可怜的人，&我呼叫，&是上帝派天使为你送药，
这忘忧药能中止你对失去的丽诺尔的思念；
喝吧如吧，忘掉对失去的丽诺尔的思念！&
乌鸦说&永不复还。&
&先知！&我说&凶兆！&&仍是先知，不管是鸟还是魔！
是不是魔鬼送你，或是暴风雨抛你来到此岸，
孤独但毫不气馁，在这片妖惑鬼崇的荒原&&
在这恐怖萦绕之家&&告诉我真话，求你可怜&&
基列有香膏吗？&&告诉我&&告诉我，求你可怜！&
乌鸦说&永不复还。&
&先知！&我说，&凶兆！&&仍是先知、不管是鸟是魔！
凭我们头顶的苍天起誓&&凭我们都崇拜的上帝起誓&&
告诉这充满悲伤的灵魂。它能否在遥远的仙境
拥抱被天使叫作丽诺尔的少女，她纤尘不染&&
拥抱被天使叫作丽诺尔的少女，她美丽娇艳。&
乌鸦说&永不复还。& &让这话做我们的道别之辞，鸟或魔！&我突然叫道&&
&回你的暴风雨中去吧，回你黑沉沉的冥府阴间！
别留下黑色羽毛作为你的灵魂谎言的象征！
留给我完整的孤独！&&快从我门上的雕像滚蛋！
从我心中带走你的嘴；从我房门带走你的外观！&
乌鸦说&永不复还。&
那乌鸦并没飞去，它仍然栖息，仍然栖息
在房门上方那苍白的帕拉斯半身雕像上面；
而它的眼光与正在做梦的魔鬼眼光一模一样，
照在它身上的灯光把它的阴影投射在地板；
而我的灵魂，会从那团在地板上漂浮的阴暗
被擢升么&&永不复还！
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你可能喜欢Edgar&Allan&Poe《Annabel&Lee》的中文翻译
Annabel Lee
By: Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel L
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel L
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel L
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel L
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe著 &
多年以前，
在一个海边的王国里，
住着一位姑娘，也许你曾听说，
她名叫安娜贝尔&李——
她唯一的心思，
就是她与我的情意。
那时她和我都很年轻，
在海边的那个王国里，
我俩山盟海誓——
我和我的安娜贝尔&李——
连天堂的六翼天使
对她和我也心生妒意。
正因如此，多年以前，
在海边的那个王国里，
从云间吹来的凉风
冻死我的安娜贝尔&李；
于是她显贵的亲戚
把她从我身旁带离，
埋入石凿的墓地，
就在海边的那个王国里。
天堂里毫无快乐的天使
对她和我一直心存妒意；
对！正因如此
（在海边那个王国里众所周知）
夜里从云间吹来的凉风，
冻死我的安娜贝尔&李。
但我俩的柔情蜜意，
更年长人的爱不可比拟——&
更聪明人的情无法相提——
无论是天堂里的天使
还是海底的鬼蜮，
都不能使我们的灵魂分离，
我和我的安娜贝尔&李——&
因为在月华光照的梦里
总有我美丽的安娜贝尔&李；
在星斗闪烁的夜里
总有她那明亮的眼睛；
所以每当夜深人静，我都和她躺在一起，
而她，我的爱, 我的生命，我的娇妻
躺在海边的石棺里——
在怒海边的墓地。
已投稿到：
以上网友发言只代表其个人观点，不代表新浪网的观点或立场。Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe-Known as the American author and poet of the romantic movement, Poe rose to critically acclaim for his poetry and short stories by the early 1800's. His work also ventured in the genres of the macabre and mystery.
On January 19, 1809, Poe was left an orphan after his mother passed suddenly after childbirth. The young Poe was raised by the John and France Allan family of Richmond, Virginia. It was in Richmond that the young child grew up and flourished. Poe studied at the Unversity of Virginia for just one semester before turning his aspirations towards enlistment in the Army.
His career in the Army was short lived as the youngster found life as a cadet at West Point more than he bargained for.
Failing as an officer's cadet at West Point did not slow down or deter Poe as he soon bounced back to embarked on the next phase of his life as a writer. Publishing an anonymous collection of poems was literally the start of something special for Edgar Allan Poe.
Poems such as the Tamerlane were released by 1827 unaccredited. The poem entitled &a Bostonian& is the only poem Poe was accredited to at that time.
Poe was accredited as the inventor of detective style fiction which elevated him into the literary spotlight. The exciting emergence of science fiction was another genre that Poe contributed and drew inspiration from.
He was one of the first authors to be noted in history as a &struggling writer&. Poe paved the way for the writing profession and in the process left a long lasting mark. His work received literary acclaim for his signature literary criticism style. Writing for literary periodicals and literary journeys gave Poe's work direction and focus.
Work for the talented writer and poet to Philadelphia, New York City and Baltimore before his settled down and married his 13-year old cousin, Virginia Clemm in 1835.
The newlyweds made Baltimore their hometown as both married life and Poe's literally career begun to flourish. Poe next published the poem
in 1845 which became his most highly received poem by the literary world. Two years after the release of this success poem, Poe's wife died of tuberculosis.
At the age of 40, Poe passed away on October 7, 1849 leaving behind the unproduced journey named The Penn. This journal would later be entitled The Stylus. Poe's work eventually would transcend for centuries to come and continues to receive both praise and acclaim today.-
Poe's work transformed the face of literature and is now required reading for many students in standard high school. Any students who are interested in learning more about writing can utilize programs like the one offered through
to either practice or complete their higher education.
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简介：埃德加·爱伦·坡（Edgar Allan Poe）（），十九世纪美国诗人、小说家和文学评论家，在世时长期担任报刊编辑工作。其作品形式精致、语言优美、内容多样，在任何时代都是“独一无二”的风格。爱伦·坡被尊崇为美国浪漫主义运动要角之一，以悬疑、惊悚小说最负盛名，被公认为推理小说开创者、象征主义先驱，甚至被视为科幻小说的奠基人。
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EdgarAllanPoe个人资料
中文名：埃德加·爱伦·坡
外文名：Edgar Allan Poe
国籍：美国
出生地：波士顿
逝世日期：日
EdgarAllanPoe个人背景
职业：诗人、小说家、评论家
毕业院校：弗吉尼亚大学
EdgarAllanPoe个人贡献
主要成就：侦探小说、恐怖小说、效果论
代表作品：小说《黑猫》、《厄舍府的倒塌》，诗《乌鸦》
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