音效
界面
难度等级
口音
界面语言
1
和/或在社交方面支持我。网络:
Prologue (Ligiea)
(专辑: The Raven - 2003)
In the
science of the
mind there is no point More thrilling than to notice which I
never noticed in schools that in our endeavors to recall to memory something long-forgotten We often find ourselves upon the
very verge of remembrance Without being in the
end able to remember Under the
intense scrutiny of Ligeia's eyes I
have felt the
full knowledge And force of their expression And yet been unable to possess it And have felt it leave me as so many other things have left The
letter half-read, the
bottle half-drunk Finding in the
commonest objects Of the
universe a
circle of analogies Of metaphors for that expression Which has been willfully withheld from me The
access to the
inner soul denied Eyes blazed with a
too-glorious effulgence Pale fingers transparent, waxen, the
hue of the
grave Blue veins upon the
lofty forehead swelled And sunk impetuously with the
tides of deep emotion And I
saw that she must die That she was wresting with the
dark shadow Her stern nature had impressed me With the
belief that, to her Death would come without its terrors but not so I
groaned in anguish at the
pitiable spectacle I
would have soothed I
would have reasoned But she was amid the
most convulsive of writhings Oh, pitiful soul Her voice more gentle, more low, and yet her words grew wilder of meaning I
reeled, entranced, to a
melody more than mortal She loved me, no doubt And in her bosom love reigned as no ordinary passion But in death only was I
impressed With the
intensity of her affection Her more than passionate devotion amounted to idolatry How had I
deserved to be so blessed And then cursed with the
removal of my beloved Upon the
hour of her most delirious musings In her more than womanly abandonment to a
love All unmerited and unworthily bestowed I
came to realize the
principle of her longing It was a
yearning for life An eager, intense desire for life Which was now fleeing so rapidly away As she returned solemnly to her bed of death And I
had no utterance capable of expressing it except to say Man doth not yield to the
angels Nor unto death utterly save only through the
weakness of his feeble will I
became wild with the
excitement Of an immoderate does of opium I
saw her raising wine to her lips Or may have dreamed that I
saw fall within a
goblet As if from some invisible spring In the
atmosphere of the
room Three of four large drops Of a
brilliant and ruby-colored fluid falling While Ligeia lay in her bed of ebony The
bed of death with mine eyes riveted upon her body Then came a
moan a
sob low and gentle but once I
listened in superstitious terror but heard it not again I
strained vision to see any motion in the
corpse But here was not the
slightest perceptible Yet I
had heard the
noise And my whole soul was awakened within me The
red liquid fell and I
thought, Ligeia lives And I
felt my brain reel My heart cease to beat And my limbs go rigid where I
sat In extremity of horror I
heard a
vague sound issuing from the
region of the
bed Rushing to her I
saw I
distinctly saw a
tremor upon her lips I
sprang to my feet and chafed And bathed the
temples and hands but in vain All color fled, all pulsation ceased Her lips resumed the
expression of the
dead The
icy hue, the
sunken outline And all the
loathsome peculiarities of that Which for many days has been the
tenant of the
tomb And again I
sank into visions of Ligeia And again I
heard a
low sob As I
looked she seemed to grow taller What inexpressible madness seized me with that thought? I
ran to touch her Her head fell, and her clothing crumbled And there streamed forth huge masses of long disheveled hair It was blacker than the
raven wings of midnight
完毕