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This work is licensed
under a Creative Commons
4.0 International License

Postmodern Village
est. 1999
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The Lake
By Edgar Allan Poe and the EastWestern University Dada Cluster

The EastWestern University Dada Cluster is a society dedicated to using Microsoft Office®'s built-in dictionary and grammar checkers to correct works of literature. It has also been charged with using Babelfish to translate works of literature into foreign languages and back again.

[ Original -> Autocorrected by Microsoft Word 2007 -> Korean -> English -> Korean -> English]

New Version

Being young, was a swallow from spring
And the spot went out in the wide habitat
And more wrote will be able to love;
Was lovable being lonely quite,
B lack rock guard and joins in and the lake.
And the height which rises high
To circumference the big pine tree.
But time, the night all like the thing and -
Will throw her pall in that spot,
And wishes in fear of the alone lake
Which means that it will pass me to side,
The infantile spirit will awake silently from melody.
But the fear is not fright and -
The delight which trembles but,
And the sense which is not decided upon,
Fries from the mind which becomes dark.
The dead is the green onion
Which poison murders from it suitable a
And the grave which from only it is
Will can comfort because like that respects him brings?
In imagining which him is dark;
Who wildering thoughts were burnt will make
in the lake justice
Which is a dimness even possibility is.

Original Poem

In youth’s spring, it was my lot
To haunt of the wide earth a spot
The which I could not love the less;
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound.
And the tall pines that tower’d around.
But when the night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot — as upon all,
And the wind would pass me by
In its stilly melody,
My infant spirit would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright —
But a tremulous delight,
And a feeling undefin’d,
Springing from a darken’d mind.
Death was in that poison’d wave
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his dark imagining;
Whose wild’ring thought could even make
An Eden of that dim lake.

As found at http://www.eapoe.org/works/poems/lakea.htm