(bkz: the raven)
boyle bir siir nasil yazilir dedirten sahsiyet.
edgar alan poe
hayatım boyunca okuduğum en korkunç hikaye olan kara kedi nin yazarıdır. karga isimli şiiri de şiir öğretenlerin örneklerindendir.
"dream within a dream" muhtesem siirlerinden biridir.
take this kiss upon the brow!
and, in parting from you now,
thus much let me avow-
you are not wrong, who deem
that my days have been a dream;
yet if hope has flown away
in a night, or in a day,
in a vision, or in none,
is it therefore the less gone?
all that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
i stand amid the roar
of a surf-tormented shore,
and i hold within my hand
grains of the golden sand-
how few! yet how they creep
through my fingers to the deep,
while i weep- while i weep!
o god! can i not grasp
them with a tighter clasp?
o god! can i not save
one from the pitiless wave?
is all that we see or seem
but a dream within a dream?
take this kiss upon the brow!
and, in parting from you now,
thus much let me avow-
you are not wrong, who deem
that my days have been a dream;
yet if hope has flown away
in a night, or in a day,
in a vision, or in none,
is it therefore the less gone?
all that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
i stand amid the roar
of a surf-tormented shore,
and i hold within my hand
grains of the golden sand-
how few! yet how they creep
through my fingers to the deep,
while i weep- while i weep!
o god! can i not grasp
them with a tighter clasp?
o god! can i not save
one from the pitiless wave?
is all that we see or seem
but a dream within a dream?
"dreams" şiiri ile beni kendine bağlayan amerikan şairidir.
dreams
oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
my spirit not awakening, till the beam
of an eternity should bring the morrow.
yes! tho that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
twere better than the cold reality
of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
and hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
a chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
but should it be- that dream eternally
continuing- as dreams have been to me
in my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
twere folly still to hope for higher heaven.
for i have revelld, when the sun was bright
i the summer sky, in dreams of living light
and loveliness,- have left my very heart
in climes of my imagining, apart
from mine own home, with beings that have been
of mine own thought- what more could i have seen?
twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
from my remembrance shall not pass- some power
or spell had bound me- twas the chilly wind
came oer me in the night, and left behind
its image on my spirit- or the moon
shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
too coldly- or the stars- howeer it was
that dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
i have been happy, tho in a dream.
i have been happy- and i love the theme:
dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
as in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
of semblance with reality, which brings
to the delirious eye, more lovely things
of paradise and love- and all our own!
than young hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
edgar allan poe
dreams
oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
my spirit not awakening, till the beam
of an eternity should bring the morrow.
yes! tho that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
twere better than the cold reality
of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
and hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
a chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
but should it be- that dream eternally
continuing- as dreams have been to me
in my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
twere folly still to hope for higher heaven.
for i have revelld, when the sun was bright
i the summer sky, in dreams of living light
and loveliness,- have left my very heart
in climes of my imagining, apart
from mine own home, with beings that have been
of mine own thought- what more could i have seen?
twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
from my remembrance shall not pass- some power
or spell had bound me- twas the chilly wind
came oer me in the night, and left behind
its image on my spirit- or the moon
shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
too coldly- or the stars- howeer it was
that dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
i have been happy, tho in a dream.
i have been happy- and i love the theme:
dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
as in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
of semblance with reality, which brings
to the delirious eye, more lovely things
of paradise and love- and all our own!
than young hope in his sunniest hour hath known.
edgar allan poe
cask of amontillado da kullandığı dille ben ingilizce bildiğimi sanıyodum dedirtir bünyelere.where demez whiter der o kadar deyim ben.
1809 - 1849 yillari arasinda yasamis sair ve yazardir.banan gore en guzel siiri the raven ve en guzel hikayesi cask of amontilladodur.
neden bekliyorsun?
bu sözlük, duygu ve düşüncelerini özgürce paylaştığın bir platform, hislerini tercüme eden özgür bilgi kaynağıdır.
katkıda bulunmak istemez misin?