domingo, 21 de julio de 2013

Dreamland ~ Edgar Allan Poe

 BY a route obscure and lonely, 
    Haunted by ill angels only, 
    Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, 
    On a black throne reigns upright, 
    I have reached these lands but newly 
    From an ultimate dim Thule — 
From a wild weird clime, that lieth, sublime, 
          Out of SPACE — out of TIME. 

    Bottomless vales and boundless floods, 
    And chasms, and caves, and Titian woods, 
    With forms that no man can discover 
    For the dews that drip all over; 
    Fountains toppling evermore 
    Into seas without a shore; 
    Seas that restlessly aspire, 
    Surging, unto skies of fire; 
    Lakes that endlessly outspread 
    Their lone waters, lone and dead, — 
    Their still waters, still and chilly 
    With the snows of the lolling lily.

    By the lakes that thus outspread 
    Their lone waters, lone and dead, — 
    Their sad waters, sad and chilly 
    With the snows of the lolling lily, — 
    By the mountain — near the river 
    Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever, — 
    By the grey woods, — by the swamp 
    Where the toad and the newt encamp, —
    By the dismal tarns and pools 
            Where dwell the Ghouls, — 
    By each spot the most unholy — 
    In each nook most melancholy, — 
    There the traveler meets aghast 
    Sheeted Memories of the Past — 
    Shrouded forms that start and sigh 
    As they pass the wanderer by — 
    White-robed forms of friends long given, 
    In agony, to the worms, and Heaven. 

    For the heart whose woes are legion 
    'Tis a peaceful, soothing region — 
    For the spirit that walks in shadow 
    'Tis — oh 'tis an Eldorado! 
    But the traveler, traveling through it, 
    May not — dare not openly view it; 
    Never its mysteries are exposed 
    To the weak human eye unclosed; 
    So wills the king, who hath forbid 
    The uplifting of the fringed lid; 
    And thus the sad Soul that here passes 
    Beholds it but through darkened glasses. 

    By a route obscure and lonely, 
    Haunted by ill angels only, 
    Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, 
    On a black throne reigns upright, 
    I have wandered home but newly 
    From this ultimate dim Thule.

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