The Raven


… ist eines meiner Lieblingsgedichte. Hier verschiedene Materialien.

Bei About.com gibt es eine annotierte Version.

Stilmittel wie Alliteration, Assonanz und Reim werden im „Interactive Raven“ hervorgehoben. Nun ja, „interactive“ ist eigentlich was anderes …

Zur kulturellen Bedeutung des Gedichtes findet sich etwas bei USA Erklärt und bei Wikipedia.

Es gibt auch eine witzige Simpsons Version hingewiesen.

Von Dani Pröls habe ich zwei Cartoons bekommen:



Von Alan Parsons Projects gibt es „The Raven“ auf „Tales of Mystery and Imagination“ (bei einer Poe-Behandlung bietet die CD einiges an Material).

Von den vielen Parodien gefällt mir besonders – weil gewissermaßen mit Perspektivwechsel – „The End of the Raven“ by Poe’s cat 🙂

Und dann habe ich noch eine nicht mehr ganz taufrische „modern interpretation“ (MS-DOS lässt grüßen):

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed-sheets, still I sat there, doing
Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the „Save“ command
And waited for the disk to store, Only this and nothing more.

Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there, wond’ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
„Save!“ I said, „You cursed mother! Save my data from before!“
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, „Abort, Retry, Ignore?“

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I’d never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed the choices, as the disk made monstrous noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to press a key.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
From, „Abort, Retry, Ignore?“

With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard
bending, Longing for some happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted, words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, shaunted, as my patience wore,
Saying, „Abort, Retry, Ignore?“

I tried to catch the chips off guard-I pressed again, but twice
as hard. I pleaded with the cursed machine:
I begged and cried and then I swore.
Then I tried in desperation, several random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, mocking, winking, flashing nonsense as before.
Reading, „Abort, Retry, Ignore?“

There I sat, distraught, exhausted; by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, „Abort, Retry, Ignore?“

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data goes.
What demonic nether world is wrought where data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, in black holes?
But as sure as there’s C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will be one day left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, „Abort, Retry, Ignore?“

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