Πρόσφατα το http://backtomono.wordpress.com/ επιμελήθηκε ένα αφιέρωμα στον… τραγουδιστικό Edgar Allan Poe. Σχολίασα το γεγονός ότι ξεχάστηκε η κορυφαία μελοποίηση του «κορακιού», από ένα παραγνωρισμένο συγκρότημα των sixties, τους Αμερικανούς Glass Prism. To “The Raven” έτσι όπως το μελοποιούν τούτοι εδώ οι νεαροί στο άλμπουμ τους “Poe Through the Glass Prism” [RCA Victor LSP-4201] από το 1969, είναι ένα κρυφό αριστούργημα. Επειδή η τραγουδισμένη ποίηση δεν θέλει υπερβολές και φανφάρες, αλλά κάτι, μάλλον, σπανιότερο. Έμπνευση. Μεταφέρω και τις στροφές 1,2, 7 και 8 του "κορακιού" που μελοποιούνται, για (παράλληλο) διάβασμα μαζί με την ακρόαση.
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 visiter” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
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.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then the 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.”
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 visiter” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
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.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then the 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.”
Ασυλληπτο track!Δυναμίτης!Ουτε κατ'ονομα δεν τους έχω ξανακούσει!Thanx για αλλη μια φορα!Θοδωρης
ΑπάντησηΔιαγραφήΧαίρομαι που σου άρεσε...
ΑπάντησηΔιαγραφήΑκούστε και το The Raven από τους Deviled Ham (I had too much to dream last night)
ΑπάντησηΔιαγραφή