诗歌原文

Ulalume

The skies they were ashen and sobre;

The leaves they were crisped and sere，

The leaves they were withering and sere;

It was night in the lonesome October

Of my most immemmorial year;

It was hard by the dim lake of Auber，

In the misty mid region of Weir：

It was down by the dank tarn of Auber，

In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once， through an alley Titanic

Of cypress， I roamed with my Soul --

Of cypress， with Psyche， my Soul.

These were days when my heart was volcanic

As the scoriac rivers that roll，

As the lavas that restlessly roll

Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek

In the ultimate climes of the pole，