Как-то в полночь, в час угрюмый, полный тягостною...

Somehow at midnight, in a gloomy hour, full of painful thought,
Above the old volumes I was leaning half asleep,
Dreams were given to strange, - suddenly a vague sound was heard,
As if someone had knocked - knocked on the door to me.
"That's right," I whispered, "a guest in the midnight silence,
A guest is knocking at the door to me. "
 
I clearly remember ... Expectation ... Late autumn sobbing ...
And in the fireplace the outlines of dimly glowing coals ...
Oh, how I longed for dawn, how I waited in vain for an answer
On suffering without a greeting, on the question about her, about her -
About Lenore, which shone brighter than all earthly lights, -
About the light of the old days.
 
And the curtain of purple thrill uttered like a babble,
Trembling, babbling, filling me with a dark sense of heart.
An incomprehensible fear of humility, I got up from my seat, repeating:
"This is only a guest, wandering, knocking on the door to me,
The late guest of the shelter asks in midnight silence -
A guest is knocking at the door to me. "
 
"By suppressing your doubts, overcoming fears,
I said: "Do not judge my slowdowns!
I took a nap on this rainy midnight, and the sound is unclear.
It was too quiet, a knock unclear, - and I did not hear him,
I did not hear ... "Then I opened the door of my dwelling:
Darkness - and nothing more.
 
The gaze froze, cramped in darkness, and I stood astounded,
Snam surrendered, inaccessible on earth to no one;
But as before the night was silent, the darkness did not answer the soul,
Only - "Lenora!" - sounded the name of my sun, -
This I whispered, and the echo repeated it again, -
Echo - nothing else.
 
Once again I returned to the room - turned around - shuddered, -
There was a knock, but more audibly than he sounded before.
"It is true that something has broken, something has moved,
There, behind the shutters, beat at my window,
This is the wind, - I restrain the trembling of my heart, -
The wind is nothing more. "
 
I pushed the window with the bars, - immediately with an important gait
From behind the shutters came the Crow, the proud Crow of the old days,
He did not bow down courteously, but, as a lord, entered haughtily
And, flapping its wing lazily, in the lush importance of its
He took off on the bust of Pallas, which was my door,
He took off - and sat above her.
 
I woke up from sadness and chuckled involuntarily
Seeing the importance of this bird, who lived for many years.
"Your crest is plucked nicely, and you look most amusingly, -
I said, - but tell me: in the kingdom of darkness, where night is always,
What was your name, proud Raven, where night always reigns? "
Said the Crow: "Never."
 
The bird answered clearly, and at least there was little point.
I wondered with all my heart at her response then.
And who will not marvel at, who with such a dream will become akin,
Who would believe to agree to somewhere, when -
He sat over the door talking without hesitation, without difficulty
Crow with the nickname: "Never."
 
And looking so sternly, only one thing he kept saying,
Similarly, he poured all his soul in this word "Never",
And he did not flap his wings, and he did not move a pen, -
I whispered: "Friends have been hiding for many years,
Tomorrow he will leave me like hope forever. "
The raven said: "Never."
 
Hearing the answer successful, I shuddered in dismay gloomy.
"It was true, he was," I thought, "he whose life is in trouble,
The sufferer, whose torments increased, as a current
The rivers in the spring, whose renunciation of Hope is forever
The song has resulted in happiness, that, having perished forever,
Again never breaks out. "
 
But, resting in grief, smiling and sighing,
I raised my chair against Raven then,
And, leaning on the velvet gentle, I am boundless fantasies
He gave himself to the rebellious soul: "This is - Raven, Raven, yes.
But what the sinister says to this black “Never”,
A terrible cry: "Never."
 
I sat, guessing, full and thoughtfully silent,
The gaze of a bird burned my heart like a fiery star
And with the sadness of the belated head of his tired
I clung to the scarlet pillow, and I thought then:
I am alone, scarlet on velvet - the one whom I have always loved,
It will never cling.
 
But wait: it's getting dark around, and as if someone is blowing, -
So with the censer of the heavenly seraph came here?
In a moment of unclear ecstasy, I exclaimed: "Forgive, torment,
This god sent oblivion about Lenore forever, -
Drink, oh, drink quickly oblivion about Lenore forever! "
Croaked Raven: "Never."
 
And I cried in a passionate grief: "You are a bird - or a terrible spirit,
Whether the tempter is sent, or a thunderstorm is nailed here, -
You are a fearless prophet! To the land of sad, unsociable,
To the land, Obsessive obsessive, you came to me here!
Oh, tell me, will I find oblivion, - I pray, say, when? "
Croaked Raven: "Never."
 
“You are a prophet,” I cried, “prophetic!” You are a bird — or a sinister spirit,
This heaven that is above us, God forever hidden
I implore, begging me to say - within Paradise
I’ll see a holy one, that among angels always,
The one that Lenora in the sky is always called? "
Croaked Raven: "Never."
 
And I exclaimed, standing up: "Out of here, a wicked bird!
You're from the kingdom of darkness and storm, - go back there,
I do not want to lie shameful, lies, like these feathers, black,
Away, spirit persistent! I want to be - one always!
Take out your hard beak from my heart, where grief is always! "
Croaked Raven: "Never."
 
And an ominous black raven sits, a black raven, a prophetic raven,
From the bust of pale Pallas will not rush anywhere.
He looks uedi