Al’ taj stvor u crnom plaštu, još mi u smeh goni maštu,
Ja naslonjač tad okrenuh bisti, gde se Gavran njiše
Na baršun mi glava klonu, te misao sabrah onu,
Tu misao tužnu, bolnu; kakvu meni sudbu piše
Ova strašna kobna ptica, kakvu meni sudba piše
Grakćuć stalno: “Nikad više”.
(nastaviće se)
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore–
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”