114. The Raven

——E. A. Poe

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;

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 mortals

Ever dared to dream before;

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

Something 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 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 eye

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 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 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 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!

114　乌鸦

爱伦·坡

一个阴沉沉的午夜，

案前一大堆奇书古籍

记载着被人遗忘的传说，

我苦苦思索，又累又困；

当我打起盹儿，几乎睡着时，

突然响起一记拍打声，

好像有人正在敲门——

在敲我的卧室的门。

我对自己说，“有客人来了，

客人在敲我的房门；

一定如此，没有别的解释。”

噢，这事我记得清楚，

那是阴沉萧瑟的腊月，

行将熄灭的每一块炭火

都鬼魂般在室内穿梭。

我渴望天色早点放明；

我徒劳地翻阅手中书卷，

那里没有消愁的良方——

消释我失去丽诺的忧愁——

丽诺，最美最可爱的少女，

为她起名的是天使——

人间从此没有这名字。

每一幅紫色的丝绸窗帘

都发出悲哀莫名的簌簌声，

令我毛骨悚然——使我内心

充满从未有过的疯狂和恐惧。

此刻，为了止住心跳，

我站在那里，重复着说：

“一定是什么人来找我，

求我允许他进入房门；

对了，没有别的解释。”

我的灵魂顿时变得坚强；

我不想再迟疑观望，

我于是说：“先生或夫人，

我真心请求你的原谅；

刚才我正在打瞌睡，

而你又拍打得太轻，

我是说刚才你敲得太轻——

我的房门你敲得太轻，

以致我不敢肯定门外有人。”

说完我便将房门洞开：

门外一片黑暗，一无所有。

我凝视黑暗的深处，

久久站在那里沉思

我恐惧，疑虑，做着梦，

做着常人从不敢做的梦；

但静寂没有被打破，

黑暗中没有任何人影，

只有一个声音在响，

那是一声“丽诺！”的低语，

低语出自我自己，回声

传来，也是低声的“丽诺！”

仅此而已，没有别的。

我返身回到室内，

灵魂整个儿都在燃烧，

很快又听见一记拍打声，

那声音比刚才还响。

我说：“这回清楚了，

有东西在敲我的窗棂；

让我看看究竟是什么，

让我揭开这个谜——

让我的心先静一静，

马上揭开这个谜；

肯定是风，没有别的。”

我于是打开百叶窗，

一只来自神圣古代的乌鸦

拍打着翅膀，摇着尾巴，

昂首阔步进入我的房间。

他没有向我致敬行礼，

没有迟疑，没有停下脚步，

他的神气就像这里的主人，

他在房门上方停息下来——

就停息在房门上方

那一尊雅典娜的塑像上——

那样蹲着，毫不含糊。

这只黑如乌木的鸟

凭着他天生的庄严仪表

哄着我悲伤的心窍，

让我转悲为喜。

我说：“你真够胆大，

就不怕我把你的羽毛拔下！

你这阴森可怕的古代乌鸦，

来处黑暗的彼岸；

告诉我，在普路同的冥府，

你可有尊姓大名？”

乌鸦回答：“永不再。”

丑陋的大鸟听得懂人话，

这让我无比惊讶，

尽管他的回答语焉不详，

好像还有点不恰当。

但我们不能不承认：

活在世上的芸芸众生，

没有谁能像我这样福星高照，

能亲眼见到房门上有鸟来到——

有鸟或兽光顾门庭，

栖息在房门口的塑像之上，

那鸟就叫“永不再。”

在这宁静的塑像上，

乌鸦独自停息，只说

一句话，他的灵魂

似乎凭这句话而倾诉。

他没有再说什么，

也不再拍打翅膀，

直到我禁不住自语喃喃：

“别的朋友已经飞走，

明天一早他也会离开，

就像希望弃我而去那样。”

乌鸦开口说：“永不再。”

他打破沉默的回答十分贴切，

我不由得大吃一惊。

我于是说：“毫无疑问，

这就是他能说的全部；

他从某位不幸的主人学得

这一句，但无情的灾难

追随他的主人，越追越紧，

直到他的歌负载起——

直到他希望的安魂曲

负载起忧郁的重荷，

这重荷就是“永不再。”

但乌鸦继续在哄我，

想让我由苦恼转为欢笑，

我索性将一把靠背椅

推到他跟前，推到塑像下方；

我往天鹅绒上一坐，

打算将自己的幻想

一一梳理，并揣摩

这只不祥古鸟的来历——

我想知道这只丑陋的、

不祥的、阴森可怕的古鸟

为何总是叫着“永不再。”

我就这样坐着，思忖着，

对这只鸟不发一言，

此刻，乌鸦眼睛中的火

已经点燃我的心灵深处；

我就这样坐着，揣测着，

我的头轻轻地靠住

座椅上的天鹅绒衬套，

任凭灯光轻慢的照耀。

这紫罗兰色的天鹅绒衬套，

这灯光轻慢的照耀，

她都不再拥有，永不再！

然后我觉得空气变稠密了，

无形的香炉由天使摇晃着，

散发出浓香，绒绒的地板上

响着天使的脚步，丁丁有声。

“可怜人啊，”我呼喊起来，

“上帝眷顾你，派天使

送来安息——安息和忘忧神水，

好让你不再思念你的丽诺！

喝下吧，喝下这忘忧神水，

忘了你已经失去的丽诺！”

乌鸦说：“永不再。”

“先知啊，恶魔啊，”我对他说，

“不论是鸟是鬼，你首先是先知！

不管你出于魔王的派遣，

还是狂风将你吹来此地，

你孑然一身，浑身是胆，

来到这被魔法控制的荒土——

来到这充满恐怖的家园——

我恳求你，求你如实相告：

在基列[1]，是否真有灵药？

告诉我，告诉我，我求你了！”

乌鸦说：“永不再。”

“先知啊，恶魔啊，”我对他说，

“不论是鸟是鬼，你首先是先知！

凭着我们头顶的苍天——

凭着你和我都崇拜的上帝——

告诉我这痛不欲生的灵魂：

在那遥远的伊甸园，

我是否能拥抱神圣的少女，

那位天使称为丽诺的姑娘？”

乌鸦说：“永不再。”

“你这鸟或魔鬼，”我尖叫着跳起，

“凭这句话我们分手吧！

回到你暴风雨的居所，

回到黑暗的普路同海岸！

你的黑羽毛，一根也别留下，

免得它见证你说过的谎话！

别将我的寂寞打破！——

离开我房门上的塑像！

别用你的嘴啄我的心，

请你离开我的家门！”

乌鸦说：“永不再。”

乌鸦没有动一动身子，

他始终停在那里，停在那里，

就在苍白的雅典娜的塑像上，

就在我的卧室的门上；

他的眼睛显现的神情，

就像魔鬼正在做梦，

灯光在他身上晃动，

地板上映出他的影子；

我的灵魂飘浮在地板上，

无法摆脱那影子，无法

往上升起——永不再！

* * *

[1]基列，《圣经》地名，在约旦河东岸，那里出产止痛灵药。