Ku - ku
TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !
Tko se nije skrio, magarac je bio ;P
so was I when I faced that restless beast
which, even as she stalked me, step by step
had thrust me back to where the sun is speechless.
the beast that is the cause of your outcry
allows no man to pass along her track,
but blocks him even to the point of death;
I say, that when the spirit evil-born
Cometh before him, wholly it confesses;
And this discriminator of transgressions
Virgil :
"If I am not mistaken ,
it was just before the coming of who took the souls of Limbo ,
that all Hell was shaken
so that I thought the Universe felt love
and all its elements moved toward harmony ,
whereby the world of matter ,
as some believe
has often plunged to chaos ."
* Svi smo mi maske i svi smo mi zakrinkani i svaki čovjek osjeća potrebu da skine svoju masku na jedan tren, da se raskrinka, da progovori po crti svog intimnog raspoloženja."
M. K.
The Haunted Palace," American Museum (Baltimore), April 1839
The Haunted Palace
By E. A. Poe, ESQ.
In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace —
Snow-white palace — reared its head.
In the monarch thought's dominion —
It stood there!
Never Seraph spread his pinion
Over fabric half so fair.
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow —
This — all this — was in the olden
Time long ago —
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the rampart plumed and pallid,
A winged odour went away.
All wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows saw
Spirits moving musically
To a lute's well tuned law,
Round about a throne where sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well befitting,
The sovereign of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door ;
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate!
Ah, let us mourn — for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!
And round about his home the glory,
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers now within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows, see
Vast forms that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a rapid ghastly river,
Through the pale door;
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh — but smile no more.
-The End-
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Through the fiery caverns we sail
Virgil at my side my guide and master
Questing through the nine plains of hell
Infernal wisdom shall fill my soul
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