timeVerse (tverse) wrote,

О стихах

Сегодня день рождения моего любимого зарубежного поэта, который Эдгар По.
А стихотворения круче, чем "Ворон", я в принципе не знаю.
Единственное. что меня расстраивает - что я ухитрилась посеять где-то свой перевод.
Вот что может быть прекраснее, а?

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 wished the morrow;- 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 name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.
Tags: word art
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