Corbul di Edgar Allan Poe
Gavranlu armâneaşti Toma Enache
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Minduiam la anveţlu vecl’i ţi a lui noimâ fu ta s-chiară
Mi-ancl’inam: ş-avdu cicâtea, tu uşi arada că bâtea;
“Vărnu oaspi” -dzăcu- “triţea, s-agudi di uşi afoară
Vărnu oaspi vru ta s-intră, mizi ciucuti nafoară”.
“S-nu mi-aspar toradioară”.
Mea ţănu minti că era, tu Andreu ţângrimi s-fâţea
Pirili tu ugeag zghilea şi chilimea u-aumbrară;
Aştiptam dzua multu vrutâ ,cărţâli niheam s-agiutâ
S-aflu Lenora chirutâ. Steaua-n ţer Lenor fu s-chiară
S-anghilii u haidipsescu; Lenor numa nu-ari s-chiară
Ma aclo, aoa văroară.
Scretsâl’i di pirdadz aroşi di mitasi şi lâhtâroşi
Mi astâl’iara pân di oasi , inima n’i-iu aspâreară;
Frica s-asgunescu ma ghini dzăşu aşe nâpoi ti mini:
“I, văr oaspi-n casa yini; tu uşi i-di-ahăntă oară
Caftâ amânatlu oaspi ugeag di ahăntă oară”.
“S-nu mi-aspar toradioară”.
Loai curai cama cu silâ cătă uşi fără n’ilâ;
“Domnule” grii “vahi doamna s-mi l’irtats şidzut nafoară”
“Mi-ancl’inam; ş-avdzai ciucutit,cum eram ca adurn’it
Vahi mizi voi ciucutit, nu acăţai ta s-bagu oară
dzaş că i var agudit”; Dishcl’id uşa ş-bagu oară:
“Nâ scutidi ca vărnoară”.
Di ciudii ş-aspâreari,mutrii tu scutidea mari
Anyisam yisi ţi tu yis alţă oamin’i nu-anyisară.
Isihie văr ici nu grea şi scutidea şi ea tâţea;
Maş unu zbor io grii atumţea: “Lenor!” – s-avdză prit zboară-
Airlu n’i-apândisi tut “Lenor”; ân’i turna a meali zboară.
Maş zboară fură afoară.
Tu udă mi aveam turnată, heavra mi-avea acâţată
S-ahurhi nâpoi ta s-bată, ma salami ş-cama troară.
“Siyura s-avdi cum bati, tu firidă pi canati
Vrea sa ştiu ţi ari câbati, vrea s-dizleg ciudia troară
S-inima vrea ta sâ-ştie; va s-vedu tu aestă oară”:
“Vimtu bati ca vărnoară”.
Dau canatea dinaparti ş-vedu nâ aripă cum bati
S-intră cum amirălu, un gavran lai dit eta di altâoară
Ni bună dzua vrea s-dzacă,ni cl’inăciuni ici s-facă
Pirifan acaţă s-treacă, cătă ayalmâ diunoară
Pi ayalma ali Antini, pi ea şidzu diunăoară.
S-sta ca glar toradioară.
Mutrita laie şi sertă an’i si parea multu pseftă
Ma sumarâşi di anvirinari; -“Lai gavran di altoară”-
“Ti cara nu ai cârântari,siyura nu hii ti arcari”
“Ti-amintaş dit chisâ s-pari, ama ţi numa-ţ bâgară
Tu cratlu di pisa Pluton, ţi numa laie-ţ bâgară?”
El apândisi:”Vărnoară”.
Pi şcreta âl’i du apandisea; ni hazi ş-ici nu s-uidisea
Ma chitrusii căndu avdzâi,un gavran s-dzăcă zboară.
Nu s-ari avdzată ici iuva, bana di om sâ ştea ţiva
Că pul’i, prici i altuţiva, s-intrâ tu udă aşetsi troară
Pi ayalma ali Antini sâ şeadă ahăntu troară
Si s-aibă numa: “vărnoară”.
Ma gavranlu ca limnusit, unu zbor aleapsi minduit
Tuş canda tu aţel zbor cripări ş-suflit s-adunară.
Maş unu zbor vru ta sâ spună, vără peană ici nu mină;
Căndu un zbor a-meu asună:”Căţ soţ avui tuţ s-chiară?
Aşe ş-el; va s-fugă cum nădiili vecl’i arada azbuirară”.
Gavranlu dzaţi – “Vărnoară”.
Mi lâhtârsi estă ciudie, zborlu cu mintiminie
Dzăc: “vahi maş aistu zboru aleadzi di alti zboară;
Lu-anviţă nicuchirlu cari avu văr blâstemu mari
Si di-ahăntă jali s-pari, vrură vahi ş-dol’ii cântară
Cântic ţi maş un iho avea, idyiul iho dol’i cântară”:
“Văroară, lele, vărnoară!”
Sumarâşi di-ahantă jali ş-trapşu troară altă cali;
Dinintea ali uşi pi fotel yisli caplu n’i-angrupară.
Minduiam s-acaţ tu pringă, pul’iu lai ca vără strigă
Câftam mintea su dishcl’idă gavranlu di altăoară
Ti va s-dzăcă şcretu, strâmbu, căndu spuni esti zboară:
“Văroara, Cra! Vărnoară”.
Gavranlu cu a lui mutrită pân tu suflit mi avea friptă
Iuva iuva nu-n’i tâcânea ţi vrea spună ţeali zboară?
Mut aşe an’i bâteam caplu ţi s-aibă tu minti draclu;
S-arihati n’i-alas caplu, pi fotelu iu s-virsară-
Lun’in’li ali lambi -, iu caplu feata ţea ambară
Nu va lu aştearnă, vărnoară.
Airlu l’ia s-alâxeaşti nâ n’iurizmâ lu minteaşti
Câţe candilili tu ţer anghilii li ligânară.
“Mârate” -bâgai io boaţi- “Dumidză tea ţâ pitreaţi
Yitrii s-bei nacă ţâ treaţi caimolu ti Lenor ma troară”
“Bea su-agârşeşti Lenor, bea sâ-tă fugâ dorlu troară!”
Dzăsi gavranlu – “Vărnoară”.
“Semn arău”, “vombir” io grii – “Cubil’ii”- “gavran i-ţi s-hii”
“Dheavulu ică tufanea pi aistu meal ti arcară?”
“Tu aistu udă ţi suschiră ţi şcretu şi pondu s-deapiră
Iu lâhtarea-i-nicuchiră; ti pâlâcărsescu dză troară
S-află Iudeea yitria? Dză maş u-aflu dză ma troară?”
Dzaţi gavranlu – “Vărnoară”.
“Semn arău”, “vombir”-io grii- “Cubil’i”- “gavran i-ţi s-hii”
“Pi ţerlu ţi-i supra, pi Dumidzălu vrut; dză troară
Tu Paradis ţi-i naparti, su-stringu tu braţă s-poati,
Feata steauă ţi-i aparti, tu ţer sâmtsâl’i u-aflară
Di ăl’i grescu tora Lenor; va u-stringu tu braţă vloară !?”
Dzăsi gavranlu – “Vărnoară”.
“Tel dit soni s-hibă zborlu”. “Fudz tu chisă ţâ-i laolu”.
“Tufanea ca blâstem s-ti ducă, tel cu un cicior s-ti chiară
S-nu-arâmănă peană scretă di minciuna tauă pseftă;
Singur vream ta s-hiu nâ etă”.”Fudz di aoa tu aistă oară”.
“L’iats dit cheptu-a-meu dintana, zverca l’iaţ tu-aistă oară”.
Dzasi gavranlu -“Vărnoară”.
Di-atumţea lailu gavran sta, supra di uşi ş-tora sta
Niminat pi-ayalma ali Antini; I-si-aprindu troară
Ocl’i di demun ţi au turbată ş-aumbra lui arcată
Câdzu dit lambă virsată, pi chilimi damcă s-moară
Suflitlu n’i-iu lu-acâţară, damca şcretă va s-lu moară
Ti daima ş-ti vărnoară!
____________
The Raven
Edgar Allan Poe
[First published in 1845]
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 named 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 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 Nights 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 above 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 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 bosoms core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushions velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated oer,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating oer,
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 has sent thee
Respite – respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, 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 named Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named 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 Nights 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 demons that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light oer 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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