THE RAVEN - Generated by Foxit PDF Creator Foxit Software

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LE CORBEAU / THE RAVEN POËME PAR EDGAR POE TRADUCTION FRANÇAISE DE STÉPHANE MALLARMÉ AVEC ILLUSTRATIONS PAR ÉDOUARD MANET PARIS RICHARD LESCLIDE, ÉDITEUR, 61, RUE DE LAFAYETTE 1875 Generated by Foxit PDF Creator © Foxit Software http://www.foxitsoftware.com For evaluation only.
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LE CORBEAU / THE RAVEN Generated by Foxit PDF Creator © Foxit Software http://www.foxitsoftware.com For evaluation only.
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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." Une fois, par un minuit lugubre, tandis que je m'appesantissais, faible et fatigué, sur maint curieux et bizarre volume de savoir oublié— tandis que je dodelinais la tête, somnolant presque: soudain se fit un heurt, comme de quelqu'un frappant doucement, frappant à la porte de ma chambre—cela seul et rien de plus. Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow— sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Nameless here for evermore. Generated by Foxit PDF Creator © Foxit Software http://www.foxitsoftware.com For evaluation only.
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Ah! distinctement je me souviens que c'était en le glacial Décembre: et chaque tison, mourant isolé, ouvrageait son spectre sur le sol. Ardemment je souhaitais le jour— vainement j'avais cherché d'emprunter à mes livres un sursis au chagrin—au chagrin de la Lénore perdue—de la rare et rayonnante jeune fille que les anges nomment Lénore:—de nom pour elle ici, non, jamais plus! And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door— Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;— This it is and nothing more." Et de la soie l'incertain et triste bruissement en chaque rideau purpural me traversait—m'emplissait de fantastiques terreurs pas senties encore: si bien que, pour calmer le battement de mon coeur, je demeurais maintenant à répéter « C'est quelque visiteur qui sollicite l'entrée, à la porte de ma chambre—quelque visiteur qui sollicite l'entrée, à la porte de ma chambre; c'est cela et rien de plus. » Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping— tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door:— Darkness there and nothing more. Mon âme devint subitement plus
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