By Edgar Allan Poe

童年时起，我便异于

From childhood’s hour I have not been

别的孩子——他们的视域

As others were—I have not seen

与我不同——我难以随同

As others saw—I could not bring

众人为些许小事激动——

My passions from a common spring—

我的忧伤也和他们

From the same source I have not taken

并非一类——同一种高论

My sorrow—I could not awaken

无法使我热血沸腾——

My heart to joy at the same tone—

我爱的——别人想爱也是不能。

And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

当时——我还幼稚——在重复

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn

磨难的一生的开端——我便从

Of a most stormy life—was drawn

善与恶的每一层摄取

From ev’ry depth of good and ill

一种秘密，至今风雨

The mystery which binds me still—

半生，我仍然为它控制——

From the torrent, or the fountain—

我从激流、山泉与岩石——

From the red cliff of the mountain—

从绕我旋转的太阳

From the sun that ’round me roll’d

以及秋日灿烂的金光——

In its autumn tint of gold—

我摄取，从那天上的闪电

From the lightning in the sky

当它飞快掠过我身边——

As it pass’d me flying by—

从雷霆、黑压压的暴风雨——

From the thunder, and the storm—

还从乌云（远处天宇

And the cloud that took the form

仍然是一片蔚蓝），当它

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

在我眼里成为恶煞。

Of a demon in my view—