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The Village Street

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Δεν ήξερα που να το γράψω και έτσι το γράφω εδώ...


Ένα ποίημα που αγαπώ πολύ :blush:


In these rapid, restless shadows,

Once I walked at eventide,

When a gentle, silent maiden,

Wal ked in beauty at my side

She alone there walked beside me

All in beauty, like a bride.


Pallidly the moon was shining

On the dewy meadows nigh;

On the silvery, silent rivers,

On the mountains far and high

On the ocean's star-lit waters,

Where the winds a-weary die.


Slowly, silently we wandered

From the open cottage door,

Underneath the elm's long branches

To the pavement bending o'er;

Underneath the mossy willow

And the dying sycamore.


With the myriad stars in beauty

All bedight, the heavens were seen,

Radiant hopes were bright around me,

Like the light of stars serene;

Like the mellow midnight splendor

Of the Night's irradiate queen.


Audibly the elm-leaves whispered

Peaceful, pleasant melodies,

Like the distant murmured music

Of unquiet, lovely seas:

While the winds were hushed in slumber

In the fragrant flowers and trees.


Wondrous and unwonted beauty

Still adorning all did seem,

While I told my love in fables

'Neath the willows by the stream;

Would the heart have kept unspoken

Love that was its rarest dream!


Instantly away we wandered

In the shadowy twilight tide,

She, the silent, scornful maiden,

Walking calmly at my side,

With a step serene and stately,

All in beauty, all in pride.


Vacantly I walked beside her.

On the earth mine eyes were cast;

Swift and keen there came unto me

Ritter memories of the past

On me, like the rain in Autumn

On the dead leaves, cold and fast.


Underneath the elms we parted,

By the lowly cottage door;

One brief word alone was uttered

Never on our lips before;

And away I walked forlornly,

Broken-hearted evermore.


Slowly, silently I loitered,

Homeward, in the night, alone;

Sudden anguish bound my spirit,

That my youth had never known;

Wild unrest, like that which cometh

When the Night's first dream hath flown.


Now, to me the elm-leaves whisper

Mad, discordant melodies,

And keen melodies like shadows

Haunt the moaning willow trees,

And the sycamores with laughter

Mock me in the nightly breeze.


Sad and pale the Autumn moonlight

Through the sighing foliage streams;

And each morning, midnight shadow,

Shadow of my sorrow seems;

Strive, 0 heart, forget thine idol!

And, 0 soul, forget thy dreams !

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Δεν είχα ξαναδιαβάσει το ποίημα αυτό του Ποε και μπορώ να πω πως είναι από τα πιο όμορφα ποιήματα που διάβασα ποτέ μου. Παρ'όλη τη κάποια θλίψη, δεν αφήνει πίκρα αλλά υπέροχες, απίστευτα ονειρικές και ρομαντικές εικόνες. Ευχαριστώ που το μοιράστηκες μαζί μας, Velkion. :thmbup:



Και κάτι ακόμα: Tα ποιήματα του Ποε αφ'ενός μεν είναι public domain, και αφ'ετέρου ανήκουν στη σφαίρα του φανταστικού συχνά, οπότε μην σκεφτεί κάποιος πως δεν ανήκουν εδώ! :p

Edited by Dain
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  • 2 weeks later...
Strive, 0 heart, forget thine idol!

And, 0 soul, forget thy dreams !




Μου έχει συμβεί και πονάει αφάνταστα... Τι μου θύμησες τώρα... :bangin:


Το ποίημα είναι λυπητερά υπέροχο, αλλά κάτι τέτοια πράματα μου κάνουν κακό. Ξύνουν πληγές που ματώνουν.

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