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Književnost i lingvistika Malo o književnosti, kulturi jezika, govoru i svemu što nas zanima vezano za narječja.



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Old 24-07-07, 20:29   #1
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Annabel Lee

U carstvu na žalu sinjega mora -
pre mnogo leta to bi -
življaše jednom devojka lepa
po imenu Anabel Li;
i samo jedno joj beše na umu
da se volimo mi.

U carstvu na žalu sinjega mora
deca smo bili mi,
al volesmo se više no iko
ja i Anabel Li,
ljubavlju s koje su patili žudno
nebeski andjeli svi.

I zato, u carstvu na morskome žalu,
pradavno ovo se zbi
poduhnu vetar nocu sa neba,
sledi mi Anabel Li
i dodjoše od mene da je odnesu
njezini rodjaci svi,
u grob na morskome je spustiše žalu
da vecni sanak sni.

Andjele zavist je morila što su
tek upola srecni ko mi
da! zato samo ( kao što znaju
u carstvu onome svi)
poduhnu vetar sa neba i sledi
i ubi mi Anabel Li.

Al mi nadjacasmo ljubavlju one
što stariji behu no mi -
što mudriji behu no mi -
i slabi su andjeli sve vasione
i slabi su podvodni duhovi zli
da ikad mi razdvoje dušu od duše
prelepe Anabel Li

Jer vecite snove, dok Mesec sjaj toci,
snivam o Anabel Li
kad zvezde zaplove, svud vidjam ja oci
prelepe Anabel Li
po svu noc ja tako uz dragu pocivam,
uz nevestu svoju, uz život svoj snivam,
u grobu na žalu, tu ležimo mi,
a more buci i vri.
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Old 24-07-07, 20:32   #2
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Julaluma

Kao pep'o siv je sav nebeski svod,
Sklupčalo lišće svenule tajne -
Uvelo lišće u sne očajne;
Samotni Oktobar usporio hod -
Godine moje te preosećajne;
Tmine i tmuše zatamnjuju rod -
Zgran - jezero strepi od zebnje beskrajne
Sred utvarne Gore, zvane Nedohod,
Gde su gule grobne - mračno zavičajne.

Jednom, kroz aleju kiparisa zgranski'
Sa svojom tu dušom ja jezivo bludih -
Sa dušom, sa Psihom, kad srcem, vulkanski,
Rekama od zgure bujicom poludih -
Kad lava uzrujnih bogaze pregudih
Sumpornim vrtlogom niz slom velikanski -
Ka polarnom krugu susrete kad budih;
O kako urliče prizor severjanski:
Cik promuklih zora borelano ludih.

Razgovor nam bio ozbiljna i krut,
Al' misli, te misli od grca, od plaha -
I pamćenje nade izdajničkog maha -
Okrobar je smrkli presazdao kut
(Koje li nas noći obavio skut?) -
Ne znadasmo noći kretanje, ni put,
(Mada smo već jednom sišli u taj slut):
Sve nam van sećanja, uzavrela daha -
Ta gora utvarna i tog Zgrama čut.

Pa dokle se Noći naginjala ravan,
Jutru usmeravo zvezdanik je sat -
Jutro uskoravo zvezdanik je sat -
Odjednom, gle, zvežđa mutni grumen tavan
Izroni na nebu dvorog čudno stravan,
Bledi srp Astarte, maglen neboklat -
Dragulj dijamantski smamljen i prizvat:
Tako razgovetan i dvorogo stravan.

Rekoh: ''Od Dijane topliji je On;
Kroz etar uzdaha doplovi bezmeran -
Kroz etar uzdaha doplovi bezmeran;
Vide da se suza ne osuši zvon
Sa obraza ljudskih, gde suza zgon,
Pa je došo zračan, i ljubavan, On,
Iz sazvežđa Lava, da nam kaže, veran,
Gde je zaborava umir neizmeran -
Da pokaže neba zaton tihobon -
On da nam osvetli i zračan i smeran:
Gde je večnog mira prenebesni tron;
Sa ležaja Lava dojezdio On.''

Al' Psiha podiže prst u vis, pa tmurno:
''Ovoj zvezdi, avaj, ne poklanjam vere -
Bledilu tom njenom ne poklanjam veru -
Nego ne oklevaj, prenimo se žurno:
Bežimo što dalje izvan smisla, mere;
To jedino osta - samo bekstvo burno!''
U strahu grcaše, ko gonjeno zvere
Klonuše joj krila - bezumno ih stere -
Padoše na zemlju da ih blato ždere -
Na zemlju joj pade okrilje biljurno.

A ja odgovorih: ''To su snova sanje;
O, daj u biljurni da greznemo zrak!
O, daj da prepurni prečeznemo zrak!
Sibilski taj blesak blešti nam: Uzdanje,
Nada i Lepota njegovo su tkanje -
Gle: prolomi nebo i opak mu mrak!
O, verujmo mirno u to nadbliskanje:
Vodiće nas pravo, to je uzdan znak -
Ta vidiš da noću prolomi se mrak,
Graknu iz noći promukao grak:
Prolomi se mraka teško očajanje.''

Smirio sam Psihu, poljub' dadoh njoj
S mnogo bolne strasti s mnogo žalnog šuma
I ubedih Psihu, sred pečalnih gluma;
Tad pođosmo dalje; kad, jezivo: Stoj!
Pred nama Grobnice izvio se kroj
Sa natpisom nekim vrh svoda, vrh huma!
''Šta piše, o Sestro, kom za upokoj?
Kome, izgubljenom, slova žalnih roj?''
Odgovori ona: ''Piše: Julaluma;
Počiva u njemu tvoja Julaluma.''
Tad, ko pep'o siv mi dođe srca svod,
Ko lišće sklupčano u sne očajne -
Ko lišće klonulo u svenule tajne;
Zavikah: ''Oktobar usporio hod,
Pre godinu dana tu dobrodih brod -
O, tu je donesoh, strepnje mi beskrajne,
Tu sam je doneo mrtvim u pohod:
O sad prepoznajem i taj Nedohod,
I sve što je u njemu najprisniji rod:
Zgran, jezero magle, i te misli vajne -
Kroz utvarne gore gulom zavičajne.''
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Old 24-07-07, 20:33   #3
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Gavran

Jednom jedne strašne noći, ja zamišljah u samoći,
Čitah crne, prašne knjige, koje staro znanje skriše;
Dok sam u san skoro pao, netko mi je zakucao,
Na vrata mi zakucao - zakucao tiho - tiše -
"To je putnik" ja promrmljah, "koji bježi ispred kiše",

Samo to i ništa više.

Ah, da, još se sjećam jasno, u prosincu bješe kasno
Svaki ugarak, što trne, duhove po podu riše.
Željno čekam ja svanuće, uzalud iz knjiga vučem
Spas od boli što me muče, jer me od Nje rastaviše.
Od djevojke anđeoske, od Lenore rastaviše,

Ah, nje sada nema više.

Od svilenog, tužnog šuma iz zastora od baršuna
Nikad prije osjećani užasi me zahvatiše;
Dok mi srce snažno bije, ja ga mirim sve hrabrije:
"Putnik moli da se skrije od te noći, bure, kiše.
Putnik kuca na ta vrata, da se skrije ispred kiše.

Samo to je, ništa više."

Ohrabrih se iznenada, ne oklijevah više tada:
"Gospodine il gospođo, izvinjenje moje stiže!
Mene teški snovi prate, a vi nježno kucat znate,
Tako tiho i bez snage, vaši prsti vrata biše,
Da sam sanjiv jedva čuo" - Tu se vrata otvoriše -

Mrak je tamo, ništa više.

Pogled mrak je prodrijet htio, čudno zastrašen sam bio,
Sumnjajući, sanjajući, sni mi paklenski se sniše;
Nedirnuta bje tišina, znaka nije dala tmina,
Rečena je reč jedina, šapnuta od zvuka kiše:
"Lenora" ja šapnuh tiho, jeka mi je vrati tiše,

Samo to i ništa više.

Kad u sobu ja se vratih, cijelom dušom tad zaplamtih:
Nešto jači nego prije udarci se ponoviše.
"Sigurno", ja rekoh, "to je na prozoru sobe moje;
Pogledat ću trenom što je, kakve se tu tajne skriše.
Mirno, srce. Da, vidimo, kakve se tu tajne skriše -

Vjetar to je, ništa više.

Prozorsku otvorih kuku, kad uz lepet i uz buku,
Kroza nj uđe gordi Gavran, svetih dana što već biše,
Nit da poklon glavom mahne, ni trenutak on da stane,
S likom lorda ili dame kroz moju se sobu diže
I na kip Palade sleti, što se iznad vrata diže,

Sleti, sjede, ništa više.

Ovaj stvor u crnom plaštu, nasmija mi tužnu maštu
Teškim, mrkim dostojanstvom, kojim čitav lik mu diše.
"Nek ti kresta jadno visi", rekoh, "kukavica nisi,
Strašni, mračni Gavran ti si, što sa žala Noći stiže,
Kako te na žalu zovu hadske noći otkud stiže?"

Reče Gavran: "Nikad više".

Začudih se tome mnogo, što je jasno zborit mogo,
Premda nejasne mu riječi malo tog mi razjasniše.
Ali priznat mora svako, ne događa da se lako,
Da živ čovjek gleda tako, pticu što se nad njim njiše,
Životinju ili pticu, što nad vratima se njiše

S tim imenom "Nikad više".

Ali Gavran sjedeć tamo, govori riječ jednu samo,
Ko da duša mu i srce u tu jednu riječ se sliše.
To je sve što on mi reče - dalje krila ne pokreće,
Dok moj šapat mir presiječe: "Svi me druzi ostaviše,
Otići će i on kao nade što me ostaviše".

Tad će Gavran "Nikad više".

Dok ja stajah još zatečen - odgovor bje spremno rečen.
"Nema sumnje," rekoh, "ta je riječ tek trica, ništa više
Od nesretnog gazde čuta, kojega je sudba kruta,
Pratila duž njegova puta, dok mu sve se pjesme sliše
U tužaljke puste nade, koje teret u se zbiše,

Od "nikada-nikad više".

Al taj stvor u crnom plaštu, još mi u smijeh goni maštu,
Ja naslonjač tad okrenuh bisti, gdje se Gavran njiše
Na baršun mi glava klone, a ja mislim misli one,
Stapam mašte tužne, bolne; kakvu meni sudbu piše
Ova strašna kobna ptica, kakvu meni sudba piše

Grakćuć stalno: "Nikad više".

Sjedih tražeć smiso toga, ne govoreć niti sloga
Ptici, čije žarke oči moju dušu rasplamtiše;
Tako misleć misli bone, pustih glavu da mi klone
I u baršun da mi tone, kojim svijetlo sjene riše,
Naslonit se na taj baršun, kojim svijetlo sjene riše

O n a ne će nikad više.

Zrak tad ko da gušćim stade, na me neki miris pade
Ko da anđel lakih nogu kadionik čudni njiše.
"Ludo", viknuh, "to su glasi, bog će posla da te spasi
Bol i tugu da ti gasi, što te tako izmučiše.
Pij nepenthe, da u srcu zaborav Lenoru zbriše."

Rače Gavran: "Nikad više".

"Zli proroče, ne znam pravo, da l si ptica ili đavo,
Da li te je Satan poslo, il te bure izbaciše
Sama, al nezastrašena, u tu pustu zemlju sjena
U dom ovaj opsednuti, - zaklinjem te, ah, ne šuti
Reci, reci ima' l melem jada, što me izmučiše?"

Reče Gavran: "Nikad više".

"Zli proroče, ne znam pravo, da l si ptica ili đavo,
Al u ime Boga po kom obojici grud nam diše,
Smiri dušu rastuženu, reci da l ću u Edenu
Zagrliti svoju ženu, od koje me rastaviše, Anđeosku tu
Lenoru, od koje me rastaviše?"

Reče Gavran: "Nikad više".

"Dosta ti govorit dadoh, crna ptico!" Tad ustadoh,
"U oluje divlje bježi, što se kroz noć raskriliše!
Ne ostavi niti traga svojih laži kraj mog praga,
Meni je samoća draga - usne same dovršiše -
Iz mog srca kljun svoj vadi, nek ti trag se ovdje zbriše!"

Reče Gavran: "Nikad više".

I taj Gavran, šuteć samo, još je tamo, još je tamo,
Na Palade kip je sjeo, što se iznad vrata diže,
Oči su mu slika prava zloduha što sniva, spava,
Svijetlost, što ga obasjava, na dnu njegovu sjenu riše,
Moja duša iz tih sjena, što mi cijelu sobu skriše

Ustat neće - nikad više!
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Old 02-08-07, 05:13   #4
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Nja nja , ja imam Edgara Alana Poa na dva diska ( tacnije Vinsenta Prajsa koji cita Poa)
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Old 02-08-07, 13:28   #5
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Ja nemam...
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Old 02-08-07, 15:34   #6
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O,Boze, pa kad pomislim na E.A.P. uvek pomislim na Frkija, a ne znam zasto
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Old 02-08-07, 17:59   #7
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Drago mi je sto to cujem...
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Old 05-08-07, 19:05   #8
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Quote:
Originally Posted by frkadela View Post
Drago mi je sto to cujem...
Gavrane moj
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Old 05-08-07, 22:55   #9
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Kakav ti je ovo bzvz prevod A Lee?
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Old 06-08-07, 00:01   #10
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A vala je svaki prevod glup...
Ne mogu nidje da nadjem bas dobar prevod "Gavrana" sto sam citao prije 1-2 godine... A bio je tako dobar...
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Old 07-08-07, 20:01   #11
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Svaki put kad započnem temu Poezija uvijek započnem sa Gavranom, ne znam zbog čega.
Uvijek me na čudan način dirne ta pjesma.

Primjećujem razliku u prevodu. Pogledaj na link i na prevod pjesme koji sam ja ostavila.: http://www.madeinmontenegro.com/vbfo...read.php?t=133
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Old 31-08-07, 10:34   #12
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Quote:
Originally Posted by frkadela View Post
A vala je svaki prevod glup...
Ne mogu nidje da nadjem bas dobar prevod "Gavrana" sto sam citao prije 1-2 godine... A bio je tako dobar...
pa citaj je u originalu! ja jos ne vidjeh dovoljno dobar prevod. imam jedan solidan, mozda mislis na taj, poslacu ti na pvt karakteristicne stihove da vidis je li to to o cemu pricas.
jeste li citali filozofiju kompozicije? kako tu covjek laze...
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Old 31-08-07, 14:24   #13
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Pa citao sam...
Ali iako ja obozavam engleski jezik, ipak vise volim da citam na nasem...

A filosofija kompozicije... Nemoj da se tako ostra prema njemu... Ipak je on genije...
Samo sto bi on volio da je onako napisao poemu... A i zanimljivo je...
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Old 01-09-07, 08:25   #14
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Quote:
Originally Posted by frkadela View Post
Pa citao sam...
Ali iako ja obozavam engleski jezik, ipak vise volim da citam na nasem...

A filosofija kompozicije... Nemoj da se tako ostra prema njemu... Ipak je on genije...
Samo sto bi on volio da je onako napisao poemu... A i zanimljivo je...
sto jes, jes! no je problem sto su se primili pa nastade cijeli pokret podrzavalaca!
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Old 01-09-07, 12:58   #15
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Quote:
Originally Posted by explosion View Post
sto jes, jes! no je problem sto su se primili pa nastade cijeli pokret podrzavalaca!
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Old 19-01-08, 10:34   #16
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Annabel Lee

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,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
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 Lee;
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 Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
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.

Evo originala!
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"U pocetku mog tamnovanja najteze mi je bilo sto su moje misli bile misli slobodnog covjeka".
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Old 19-01-08, 10:40   #17
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Evo ga i Gavran:

The Raven


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.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me�filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
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 entrance at my chamber door;�
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
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 opened wide the door:�
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 I heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore�
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;�
'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 least obeisance made he: not an instant stopped or stayed he;
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�little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door�
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that 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 the 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 bird and bust and door;
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's core;
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 hath sent thee
Respite�respite and nepenth� from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenth�, 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 name Lenore �
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name 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 above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted�nevermore!
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Old 19-01-08, 10:51   #18
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U SNU SAN

Primi poljub sad u čelo
Na rastanku hoću smelo
Da ti priznam, uzavrelo:
Istina je, nije zgran
Da mi dani behu san.
Kome prošlost pro?e kad,
Pa neka je jad, nejad,
Ona pro?e i njen sklad-
Bio rad, ne bio rad.
Svemu, svačem, svud si stran-
Sve je samo u snu san.

Gde je morski peščan žal
Bije val, tutnji val-
Na dlanu mi zrnca peska
Zlatna sjaja, bleska reska-
Malo ih je, skliznu, ginu,
Sva kroz prste, u dubinu.
U dubinu, u tu?inu.
Osipa se pesak plah,
Plačem: obuzo me strah,
Svako zrnce, sav taj prah-
Moći nemam ni nad kim
Da ih čvršće zadržim.
Zar nijednom zrncu spas
Od bezdani ispod nas?
Kom sam blizak, kom sam stran?
Zar je samo u snu san?


*Prevod: Stanislav Vinaver
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Old 19-01-08, 10:53   #19
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For Annie

Thank Heaven! the crisis-
The danger is past,
And the lingering illness
Is over at last-
And the fever called "Living"
Is conquered at last.

Sadly, I know
I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
As I lie at full length-
But no matter!-I feel
I am better at length.

And I rest so composedly,
Now, in my bed
That any beholder
Might fancy me dead-
Might start at beholding me,
Thinking me dead.

The moaning and groaning,
The sighing and sobbing,
Are quieted now,
With that horrible throbbing
At heart:- ah, that horrible,
Horrible throbbing!

The sickness- the nausea-
The pitiless pain-
Have ceased, with the fever
That maddened my brain-
With the fever called "Living"
That burned in my brain.

And oh! of all tortures
That torture the worst
Has abated- the terrible
Torture of thirst
For the naphthaline river
Of Passion accurst:-
I have drunk of a water
That quenches all thirst:-

Of a water that flows,
With a lullaby sound,
From a spring but a very few
Feet under ground-
From a cavern not very far
Down under ground.

And ah! let it never
Be foolishly said
That my room it is gloomy
And narrow my bed;
For man never slept
In a different bed-
And, to sleep, you must slumber
In just such a bed.

My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting its roses-
Its old agitations
Of myrtles and roses:

For now, while so quietly
Lying, it fancies
A holier odor
About it, of pansies-
A rosemary odor,
Commingled with pansies-
With rue and the beautiful
Puritan pansies.

And so it lies happily,
Bathing in many
A dream of the truth
And the beauty of Annie-
Drowned in a bath
Of the tresses of Annie.

She tenderly kissed me,
She fondly caressed,
And then I fell gently
To sleep on her breast-
Deeply to sleep
From the heaven of her breast.

When the light was extinguished,
She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm-
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm.

And I lie so composedly,
Now, in my bed,
(Knowing her love)
That you fancy me dead-
And I rest so contentedly,
Now, in my bed,
(With her love at my breast)
That you fancy me dead-
That you shudder to look at me,
Thinking me dead.

But my heart it is brighter
Than all of the many
Stars in the sky,
For it sparkles with Annie-
It glows with the light
Of the love of my Annie-
With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.
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Last edited by explosion; 19-01-08 at 11:51..
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Old 19-01-08, 11:50   #20
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ALONE

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
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