Luyện nghe bài hát The Raven

Once a midnight dreary, as I pondered, weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious volume of lore
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly came a tapping
As if some one rapping, rapping at my chamber door
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, tapping at my door only this
Only and nothing more

Muttering I got up weakly, I've had trouble sleeping
Stumbling upright my mind racing, thoughts flowing once more
I there hoping for some sunrise, happiness be a surprise
Loneliness no longer a prize, at my chamber door
Seeking out the clever bore, lost in dreams forever
Only this and nothing

Hovering my pulse was racing, stale tobacco my lips
Scotch sitting upon my basin, remnants of the night
Came again tapping on the door, in my mind jabbing
Is it in or outside rapping, calling out to me more
The fit and fury of Lenore, nameless here more
And the silken sad uncertain, rustling of the curtain
Thrilled me, me

With fantastic terrors felt before, so that now, oh wind
Stop breathing, yet to calm my breathing
some visitor entreating, entrance at my chamber door
Some lost visitor entreating, at my chamber door
This is it, and nothing more, deep into the peering
Long I stood there, wondering fearing, doubting fantasies
No dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness no token
And the only word there spoken, was the name, Lenore

This I thought in out whispered from my lips
The foul name festered, echoing merely this, and nothing more
Back into my turning, every nerve within me burning
When once again I heard a tapping, somewhat than before
"Surely," said I, surely that is something at my staircase
Open the to see what threat is, open that window, free the shutters
Let us mystery explore, Oh! bursting heart be still this once
And let mystery explore it is the wind and nothing more

Just one I muttered as inside, I gagged and shuddered
When with manly flirt and flutter, in there a stately raven
Sleek and as any foe, not the least obeisance made he
Not a gesture towards me, of recognition or politeness
But perched above my chamber door, fowl and salivating visage
Insinuating with its knowledge, perched above my chamber
sat and staring nothing more, a-skance, a-skew

The sad fancy smiles at you I swear, at this savage viscous
Countenance it wears, you show here scorn and shaven and
I myself forlorn and craven, ghastly grim and ancient raven
Wandering the opiate shores, tell me, what
Thy Lordly name is? That you are not nightmare
dire powdered drink or inhalation
Framed from flames of lore stroke the raven never more

And the raven sitting lonely, sickly at my male sex only
That one word as if his soul in one word, he did outpour, pathetic
Nothing than he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered
Till was I that muttered as I stared, dully at the floor
Other friends have and left me
as each and every hope has flown before
And as you no will before tomorrow
But the bird never more

I felt the air grow denser, perfumed from some unseen incense
As though accepting intrusion, when in fact I felt collusion
the guise, of false memories respite
Respite through the haze of cocaine's
I smoke and I the blue vial's glory
To forget at once, the Lenore
the raven never more
Prophet said I, thing of evil, still, if bird or devil
By Heaven that bend above us, by that God we both ignore
Tell soul with sorrow laden, willful and destructive intent

How had lapsed a pure lady, to the greediest of needs
Sweaty arrogant dick less liar, who ascribed to higher
a jab from prick to a needle, straight to betrayal and disgrace
The conscience showing not a trace, stroke the never more
Be that our sign of parting
Bird or fiend," I yelled upstarting, get back into the tempest
Into the smoke filled bottle's shore, leave no black plume as a
Of the slime thy soul hath spoken, leave my unbroken

Quit as those have before, take the talon from my heart
And see that I can care no more, mattered came before
I with the dead Lenore, stroke the raven never more
But the raven, flitting
Still is sitting silent sitting, a painting silent painting
Of the forever whole and his eyes have all the seeming
Of a demon's that is dreaming, and the over him
Streaming his shadow to the floor I love she
Who hates me more, I love she who hates me
And my soul shall not be lifted from shadow nevermore