从前，在一个沉闷的午夜，当我虚弱而疲倦地沉思着许多古雅而奇特的被人遗忘的爱情的时候，当我打盹，几乎要睡着的时候，突然传来一阵敲击声，好像有人在轻轻地叩击，叩击我的房门。“有人来了，”我喃喃地说，“在敲我的房门——只有这个，别无其他。”啊，我清楚地记得那是在阴冷的十二月，每一根奄奄一息的余烬都在地板上留下了幽灵。我急切地盼望着明天;——我曾徒劳地想从我的书中借到悲伤的止息——为逝去的丽诺尔而悲伤——为那位被天使称为丽诺尔的稀有而光彩夺目的少女而悲伤——永远在这里无名。每一扇紫色窗帘的丝质的、悲伤的、不确定的沙沙声使我激动——使我充满了以前从未有过的奇异的恐惧;所以现在，为了使我的心跳平静下来，我站在那里重复着:“有人在我的房门前恳求进来——有个迟到的客人在我的房门前恳求进来;——仅此而已。”不久，我的灵魂变得坚强起来;于是我不再犹豫了，“先生，”我说，“或者夫人，我真诚地恳求您的宽恕;但事实是，我正在打盹，你轻轻地来敲我的房门，轻轻地敲我的房门，我几乎没有听见你的声音。”——这时我把门打开;——那里一片漆黑，什么也没有。我凝视着黑暗深处，久久地站在那里，疑惑、恐惧、怀疑，做着凡人从未敢做过的梦; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness 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 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 a minute 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 blest 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 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 fancy 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 lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from