Es ist bald wieder Halloween - der schönste oder wohl eher der "gruseligste" Tag schlechthin. Ich freu mich schon auf leckere Kürbissuppe, heiße Schokolade mit Marshmallows und alte Horrorschinken, die mehr zum Lachen sind als zum Gruseln. =)
Somit auch die Zeit in der ich abends mein 1000-seitiges Edgar Allan Poe Buch aufschlage und Geschichten des Grauens lese. Ich kann mich noch genau daran erinnern wie ich damals mit 13 im Englischunterricht mein erstes Poe-Buch gelesen habe und sogar ein Essay darüber schreiben durfte. Er hat meine größte Bewunderung und ist deswegen auch meine Inspiration für ein Kostüm. Leider raubt mir die Uni mehr Zeit als je zuvor und ich habe deswegen nur einen Hauch von Halloween am 31. Oktober an mir.
Da sprach ich : Nimmermehr. ;-)
Da sprach ich : Nimmermehr. ;-)
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
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