tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33140152621740828302024-02-06T22:22:02.087-08:00La Lluna de la MentZendaljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04753331075312366067noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314015262174082830.post-19589885209274640472011-01-09T20:59:00.000-08:002011-01-09T20:59:00.309-08:00The Raven<span style="font-size: x-small;">Benvinguts a la foscor de la meva ment. No tinc cap intenció amb a quest bloc, més que la de donar sortida a les inquietuts literaries emmagatzemades durant massa temps dintre meu. Relats de fa molt temps, de no fa tant i algun que altre seguit de viatges psicodèlics dintre d'un lloc on la llum només es deixar sentir de quant en quant.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Després de la obligada presentació us deixo de moment amb un compte en clau de poema d'un gran mestre com és Edgar Allan Poe. Molt possiblement serà un dels pocs relats de autors famosos que situï aquí, ja que encara brilla en la meva ment com la Lluna plena en el desert ... com tu en la meva foscor...</span><br />
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Edgar Allam Poe - The Raven<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,</span><br style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,</span><br style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,</span><br style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.</span><br style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door,</span><br style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;" /><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Only this, and nothing more." </span><br />
<div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,<br />
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.<br />
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow,<br />
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,<br />
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,<br />
Nameless here for evermore. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain<br />
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;<br />
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,<br />
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,<br />
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;<br />
This it is, and nothing more." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,<br />
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;<br />
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,<br />
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,<br />
That I scarce was sure I heard you", here I opened wide the door;<br />
Darkness there, and nothing more. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,<br />
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;<br />
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,<br />
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"<br />
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"<br />
Merely this, and nothing more. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,<br />
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.<br />
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:<br />
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore,<br />
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;<br />
'Tis the wind and nothing more." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,<br />
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;<br />
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;<br />
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,<br />
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door,<br />
Perched, and sat, and nothing more. </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,<br />
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.<br />
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,<br />
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore,<br />
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,<br />
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;<br />
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being,<br />
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door,<br />
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,<br />
With such name as "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only<br />
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.<br />
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered,<br />
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before,<br />
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."<br />
Then the bird said, "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,<br />
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,<br />
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster,<br />
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore,<br />
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore,<br />
Of "Never - nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,<br />
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;<br />
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking,<br />
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore,<br />
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore,<br />
Meant in croaking "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing<br />
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;<br />
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining,<br />
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,<br />
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,<br />
She shall press, ah, nevermore! </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer<br />
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.<br />
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee,<br />
Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!<br />
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!<br />
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,<br />
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted,<br />
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore,<br />
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!<br />
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore,<br />
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,<br />
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore,<br />
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting<br />
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!<br />
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!<br />
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!<br />
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." </div><div style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting<br />
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;<br />
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,<br />
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;<br />
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor,<br />
Shall be lifted - nevermore!</div><br />
<br />
Edgar Allan Poe - El Corb<br />
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Temps ha, en una nit d’oratge, mentre exhaust, sense coratge,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">meditava el text insòlit d’uns savis i arcaics papers,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">vaig abaltir-me i, somorta, l’armella del picaporta</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">colpí d’improvís la porta del meu isolat recés.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Serà algú —vaig dir— que truca al portal del meu recés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> tan sols això i no res més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Ah, tot en mi prou remembra que va ser en el fred desembre,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">cada flam el tènue espectre semblava que al sòl perfés.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Trigava a venir l’aurora; treva pel mal que em devora</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">d’ençà que ha mort Leonora: era en va que l’implorés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">la resplendent que anomenen pel nom els àngels només,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> i aquí baix, de nom, mai més.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I el trist cruixir de la fina seda de cada cortina</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">m’estremia i jo sentia terrors no soferts adés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">mes vaig calmar-me tot d’una repetint: «Potser és alguna</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">visita poc oportuna que vol entrar al meu recés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">algú que suplica entrada al portal del meu recés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> això deu ser i no res més.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Quiti de dubtes i alarma, llavors el cor se’m desarma:</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Dama o senyor —vaig dir—, imploro el vostre perdó, però és</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">que, abaltit, no distingia si algú suaument colpia,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">tan feble era el truc que oïa, al portal del meu recés.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Això dit, obro la porta de bat a bat perquè entrés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> tan sols tenebres, res més.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Escrutant l’ombra a distància, sumit en pors i ignorància,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">tramava somnis que l’home no crec que mai somiés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">tot era repòs, nit pura, intacta la calma obscura,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">i el sol mot que algú murmura, jo el murmuro, i és, només,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">el dolç nom de Leonora que em torna l’eco només.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Simplement això i res més.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">De nou vaig tancar-me a casa, el cor convertit en brasa,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">i, al cap de poc, algú truca, més fort, com si ja es frisés:</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Deu ser —em deia— alguna cosa colpint ma finestra closa;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">caldrà esbrinar què es proposa, saber aquest misteri què és,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">que el cor se’m calmi i que em deixi saber aquest misteri què és;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> era el vent i no res més!»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Obro de sobte, i avança, gronxant-se i esbategant-se,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">un Corb superb dels sants dies d’antany. Com si no em veiés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">no féu cap lleu reverència, ni el deturà ma presència,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">s’encimbellà amb displicència al portal del meu recés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">s’encimbellà al bust de Pal·las del portal del meu recés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> va asseure-s’hi, no res més.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">L’au negra arrencà un somriure del meu trist estil de viure</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">en veure’l aposentar-se amb aires tan greus i austers:</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«No per xoll i cara aspriva, ets Corb d’anar a la deriva</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">per la plutònica riba, vell, espectral. ¿I quin és</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">—vaig dir-li—, en les platges fosques, el teu noble nom, quin és?»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Va respondre el Corb: «Mai més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">M’admira en extrem la feta que aquella au tan tan estrafeta,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">si bé amb poc sentit parlava, repetís mots tan planers;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">no sé de persona nada que hagi estat mai honorada</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">d’un ocell que prengui estada al portal del seu recés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">bèstia o ocell, a un bust que es trobi al portal del seu recés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> amb un nom tal com «Mai més».</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Però sens mudar de jeia, dalt del plàcid bust, no deia</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">el Corb cap altra paraula, com si en ella es corvessés.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">No res més, ni un gest de vida, fins que jo amb veu defallida</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">vaig dir: «Emprendrà la partida com d’altres amics adés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"><i>ell</i> demà emprendrà volada com els meus somnis adés.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Llavors va dir el Corb: «Mai més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Corprès per una resposta proferida tan a posta,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">vaig dir: «El que expressa deu ésser tan sols arreplec i excés</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">pres d’un amo a qui el Desastre no va perdre mai el rastre</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">fins que, enfonsat pel malastre, els seus cants fossin, només,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">cants de llòbrega esperança, el greu recoble només</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> de “Mai més, mai més, mai més.”»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Del meu trist estil de viure encara arrencà un somriure</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">l’au de banús; vaig asseure’m davant seu mentre a recés</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">d’apelfats coixins jo ordia fantasia amb fantasia,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">pensant quin sentit tindria el que el vell Corb expressés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">desairós i abominable, què fóra allò que expressés</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> amb tant de grallar «Mai més».</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Seia, mirava, pensava, mes ni un sol mot no adreçava</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">a l’ocell d’ulls que cremaven al fons del meu pit: molt més</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">viag afigurar-me encara decantant a pler la cara</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">damunt el coixí que amara el llum i el seu àvid bes,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">i que <i>Ella</i> —coixí blau-grana que el llum consum bes a bes—</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> no podrà estrènyer mai més!</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">Crec que va espessir-se l’aire, que uns àngels volant al caire</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">de l’encatifat brandaven invisibles encensers.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Míser —crido—, Déu t’envia, valent-se d’àngels, metgia</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">per la teva melangia —consol i aquest nepentés</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">per oblidar Leonora—: beu, oh beu el nepentés!»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Va respondre el Corb: «Mai més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Profeta, cosa execrable!, profeta, ocell o diable!,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">sigui el Temptador o bé sigui la tempesta qui et llancés</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">en aquesta erma contrada, terra deserta, encantada,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">llar que l’Horror té assetjada, t’ho imploro, és cert, digues, ho és:</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">a Judea es troba el bàlsam? T’ho imploro, és cert, digues, ho és?»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Va respondre el Corb: «Mai més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Profeta, cosa execrable!, tant si ets ocell com diable!,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">digues, pels Cels que ens cobreixen, pel nostre Déu, si, després,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">aquesta ànima afligida abraçarà en l’altra vida</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">l’estimada beneïda que entre els àngels viu només,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">la radiant Leonora que entre els àngels viu només!»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Va respondre el Corb: «Mai més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">«Ocell o diabale, sigui aquest el mot que ens deslligui!»,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">vaig vociferar: «L’oratge espera el teu fosc regrés!</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">No deixis cap ploma en gatge del teu enganyós llenguatge,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">deixa’m sol al meu estatge!, deixa el bust del meu recés!</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">El cor del teu bec deslliura’m!, deixa el bust del meu recés!»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> Va respondre el Corb: «Mai més.»</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">I el Corb de mi no es separa, seu encara, seu encara,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">sobre el pàl·lid bust de Pal·las del portal del meu recés;</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">veig als seus ulls la parença d’un diable en somnolença,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">el llum la seva ombra llença sobre el sòl ara i adés</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;">i de l’ombra la meva ànima, que hi tremola ara i adés,</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Garamond;"> no es podrà aixecar —mai més!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Garamond;">ZZZZZZZzzzzzzz </span>Zendaljhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04753331075312366067noreply@blogger.com2