The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere— The leaves they were withering and sere: It was night, in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year: It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir:— It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
E.A.Poe “Ulalume—A Ballad”
Луна будет полной только 2 ноября, но тем не менее — всем читать одну из моих самых любимых книг!
