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Ulalume

Исполнитель: Jeff Buckley

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<br>(e.a.poe)<br><br>Jeff performed a reading of this poem by edgar allan poe for the tribute compilation closed on account of rabies, produced by hal willner.<br><br><br><br>The skies were ashen and sober,<br><br>The leaves they were crisped and sere,<br><br>The leaves they were withering and sere;<br><br>It was night in the lonesome october<br><br>Of my most immemorial year;<br><br>It was hard by the dim lake of auber,<br><br>In the misty mid region of weir,<br><br>It was down by the dank tarn of auber,<br><br>In the ghoul-haunted woodland of weir.<br><br><br><br>Here once, through an alley, titanic,<br><br>Of cypress, I roamed with my soul,<br><br>Of cypress, with psyche, my soul.<br><br>These were days when my heart was volcanic<br><br>As the scoriac rivers that roll,<br><br>As the lavas that restlessly roll<br><br>Their sulphurous currents down yaaneck<br><br>In the ultimate climes of the pole,<br><br>That groan as they roll down mount yaaneck<br><br>In the realms of the boreal pole.<br><br><br><br>Our talk had been serious and sober,<br><br>But our thoughts they were palsied and sere,<br><br>Our memories were treacherous and sere,<br><br>For we knew not the month was october,<br><br>And we marked not the night of the year<br><br>(ah, night of all nights in the year!);<br><br>We noted not the dim lake of auber<br><br>(though once we had journeyed down here),<br><br>Remembered not the dank tarn of auber,<br><br>Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of weir.<br><br><br><br>And now, as the night was senescent<br><br>And star-dials pointed to morn,<br><br>As the star-dials hinted of morn,<br><br>At the end of our path a liquescent<br><br>And nebulous lustre was born,<br><br>Out of which a miraculous crescent<br><br>Arose with a duplicate horn<br><br><br><br>Astartes bediamonded crescent<br><br>Distinct with its duplicate horn.<br><br>And I said: &quot;she is warmer than dian;<br><br>She rolls through an ether of sighs,<br><br>She reveals in a region of sighs:<br><br><br><br>She has seen that the tears are not dry on<br><br>These cheeks, where the worm never dies,<br><br>And has come past the stars of the lion,<br><br>To point us the path to the skies,<br><br>To the lethean peace of the skies;<br><br>Come up, in despite of the lion,<br><br>To shine on us with her bright eyes,<br><br>Come up through the lair of the lion,<br><br>With love in her luminous eyes.&quot;<br><br><br><br>But psyche, uplifting her finger,<br><br>Said: &quot;sadly this star I mistrust,<br><br>Her pallor I strangely mistrust;<br><br>Oh, hasten! oh, let us not linger!<br><br>Oh, fly! let us fly! for we must.&quot;<br><br>In terror she spoke, letting sink her<br><br>Wings until they trailed in the dust;<br><br>In agony sobbed, letting sink her<br><br>Plumes till they trailed in the dust,<br><br>Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.<br><br><br><br>I replied: &quot;this is nothing but dreaming:<br><br>Let us on by this tremulous light!<br><br>Let us bathe in this crystalline light!<br><br>Its sibyllic splendor is beaming<br><br>With hope and in beauty to-night!<br><br><br><br>Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,<br><br>And be sure it will lead us aright;<br><br>We safely may trust to a gleaming<br><br>That cannot but guide us aright,<br><br>Since it flickers up to heaven through the night.&quot;<br><br><br><br>Thus I pacified psyche and kissed her,<br><br>And tempted her out of her gloom,<br><br>And conquered her scruples and gloom;<br><br>And we passed to the end of the vista,<br><br>But were stopped by the door of a tomb,<br><br>By the door of a legended tomb,<br><br>And I said:&quot;what is written, sweet sister,<br><br>On the door of this legended tomb? &quot;<br><br>She replied: &quot;ulalume! ulalume!<br><br>tis the vault of thy lost ulalume!&quot;<br><br><br><br>Then my heart it grew ashen and sober<br><br>As the leaves that were crisped and sere,<br><br>As the leaves that were withering and sere,<br><br>And I cried: &quot;it was surely october<br><br>On this very night of last year<br><br>That I journeyed, I journeyed down here,<br><br>That I brought a dread burden down here,<br><br>Of this night of all nights in the year,<br><br>Ah, what demon has tempted me here? <br><br>Well I know, now, this dim lake of auber,<br><br>This misty mid region of weir,<br><br>Well I know, now, this dank tarn of auber,<br><br>This ghoul-haunted woodland of weir.&quot;<br><br><br><br>Said we, then--the two, then--&quot;ah, can it<br><br>Have been that the woodlandish ghouls<br><br>The pitiful, the merciful ghouls<br><br>To bar up our way and to ban it<br><br>From the secret that lies in these wolds<br><br>From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds<br><br>Had drawn up the spectre of a planet<br><br>From the limbo of lunary souls<br><br>This sinfully scintillant planet<br><br>From the hell of the planetary souls? &quot;

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