By Edgar Allan Poe

从童年时起我就一直与别人

From childhood’s hour I have not been

不一样——我看待世间的事情

As others were—I have not seen

与众不同——我从来就不能

As others saw—I could not bring

从一个寻常的春天获得激情——

My passions from a common spring—

我从不曾从这同一个源泉

From the same source I have not taken

得到忧伤——我也不能呼唤

My sorrow—I could not awaken

我的心为这同一韵调开怀——

My heart to joy at the same tone—

而我爱的一切——我独自去爱——

And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

于是——在我的童年——在我的

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn

风雨人生的黎明——我获得，

Of a most stormy life—was drawn

从每一种善良与邪恶的深处，

From ev’ry depth of good and ill

那种神秘：它仍然把我束缚——

The mystery which binds me still—

从湍湍急流，或粼粼飞泉——

From the torrent, or the fountain—

从山顶那血红的峭壁之巅——

From the red cliff of the mountain—

从那轮绕着我旋转的太阳

From the sun that ’round me roll’d

当沐浴着它秋日里的金光——

In its autumn tint of gold—

从横空闪动的银线飞火

From the lightning in the sky

当它从我身旁一闪而过——

As it pass’d me flying by—

从狂飘暴雨，从霹雳雷霆——

From the thunder, and the storm—

从在我眼里千变万化的积云

And the cloud that took the form

（当整个天空一片湛蓝）

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

它变成魔鬼在我眼前——

Of a demon in my view—