fateful night when, with the tired mind, pondering
several tomes of ancient wisdom
and nodding, drowsy, suddenly there was a scrape,
like someone to call softly my portal.
"It's a visitor," he said, tapping at my door;
just that and nothing more. "
Ah, I remember so clearly that bleak December
Each bright spark left a spectral trace.
I was looking forward to the dawn, they found no quiet in my books,
or comfort to the loss of that abysmal
Leonor angels who will call and nobody here
appointed.
Every creak of the purple curtains and sallow from harmful
doubts overwhelmed me and my shock was so
that to calm my anxiety faded voice repeated:
"It is but a visitor who has come to my site;
a late Visitors waiting in my portal.
Only this and nothing more. "
But suddenly and without hesitation I decided I spoke:
"Sir," I said, "or Madam, I'll have to excuse
it was numb when I heard your strumming
was so soft and your knock on my website that I doubted
having heard ...", and I opened the door;
only shadows, nothing more.
The night I looked at her wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams
nobody dared to dream before;
but in this appalling silence, more than any voice,
only heard the word "Leonor", which I dared to whisper ...
yes, whispered word "Lenore" and an echo volvióla to name.
Only this and nothing more.
While burning inside my soul returned to my room strumming
but soon he heard than before.
"This time, whoever has called called my window
then see what it is, that mystery will be back.
If it calms my heart I can fathom.
is the wind and nothing more. "
But when I opened the shutters slipped through the window,
flutter, a very solemn and ancient raven.
not, or courtesy, without stopping a moment, air
stiff and serious came to rest on my website,
in a pallid bust of Pallas just above the threshold was
, wells and nothing more.
This grim black bird hit, with its serious air, smiling strangely at me
gray solemnity.
"That plume shaved," I said, do not prevent
be bold, ancient raven wandering from the abyssal blackness;
what is your name in the gloomy abyss of hell? "
Quoth the Raven," Nevermore. "What a bird
had that voice shabby
sorprendióme virtuous even though the direction was so little full, they will remember me
few
have had occasion to see such a bird perched on his website.
Neither bird nor beast upon the sculptured portal
to be called "Never Again".
But the raven, haughty, stern, not delivered from the bust, it
as if you were the soul, not a syllable more.
moved not a feather or
say a word until at last I whispered: "I saw other friends have flown before;
morning he too, like my hopes have flown before."
He said, "Nevermore."
reply so aptly transposed left my soul;
"Without a doubt - I said, repeating what has been forgotten Directory
collect some unhappy master
in its fall brought their songs to a saying:
" Never, never ".
the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling
wheeled a cushioned seat in front of the bird and the portal;
and sunk in the velvet
me askance labored to discover what wanted the deadly bird ancestral
to repeat: "Never again."
This I sat, I thought, but no syllable
the bird that now burn my chest with his look;
This and more I thought, with his head resting on the cushion
purple candle that shone.
On that purple cushion she liked to use,
and no longer used anymore!.
Then the air grew denser, burn incense Swung by Seraphim
mild musical ride.
"Miserable," I told myself. Thy God these angels he
to you with the filter that will make you forget Leonor!
Drink, drink the fresh filter, Leonor and forget! ".
Quoth the Raven," Nevermore. "
" Prophet! I shouted - be evil prophet still, if bird or devil!
Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee grim
undaunted, on this barren landscape, this home spectral
? But I implore you, tell me now,
me, I implore, if there is a balm in Gilead "
Quoth the Raven," Nevermore. "
" Prophet! I shouted - be evil prophet still, if bird or devil!
For the God we worship, for the heavenly robe,
tell this unfortunate if in the distant
Eleanor Eden, between angels now, one day I can embrace. "
Quoth the Raven," Nevermore. "
" Diablo winged, stop talking! "I said, stepping back;
It tromba you back to the abyssal blackness!
no trace of your plumage in memory of your outrage
want on my site! Leave my loneliness!
Removes the peak of my chest and your door! "
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting still, is sitting,
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
and aquiline gaze of a demon's dream, which
the lamp shade on the ground projected ghostly;
and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating,
not rise ... again!.
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