The Bells

by Edgar Allan Poe · 1849 · Чтение: 3 мин · Строк: 113

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“The Bells” by Edgar Allan Poe is a poem about bell sounds and the changing emotions they stir, from delight to terror and grief. It begins with silver sleigh bells jingling through an icy night beneath bright stars. Golden wedding bells follow, filling warmer night air with harmony and promises of future happiness. The mood breaks when brazen alarm bells shriek over a raging fire, their rising and falling noise measuring the danger. Finally, iron bells toll in darkness, sounding like groans. The speaker imagines ghouls in the steeple and a king who dances with pleasure as the bells burden human hearts. Repeated words, shifting rhythms, and sound effects make each stage feel increasingly intense, turning cheerful music into a frightening expression of sorrow.

Hear the sledges with the bells—Silver bells!What a world of merriment their melody foretells!How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,In the icy air of night!While the stars, that oversprinkleAll the heavens, seem to twinkleWith a crystalline delight;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the tintinabulation that so musically wellsFrom the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells,—From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding bells,Golden bells!What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!Through the balmy air of nightHow they ring out their delight!From the molten golden-notes,And all in tune,What a liquid ditty floatsTo the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloatsOn the moon!Oh, from out the sounding cells,What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!How it swells!How it dwellsOn the Future! how it tellsOf the rapture that impelsTo the swinging and the ringingOf the bells, bells, bells,Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells—To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

Hear the loud alarum bells—Brazen bells!What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!In the startled ear of nightHow they scream out their affright!Too much horrified to speakThey can only shriek, shriek,Out of tune,In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,Leaping higher, higher, higher,With a desperate desire,And a resolute endeavour.Now—now to sit or never,By the side of the pale-faced moon.Oh, the bells, bells, bells!What a tale their terror tellsOf Despair!How they clang, and clash, and roar!What a horror they outpourOn the bosom of the palpitating air!Yet the ear it fully knows,By the twanging,And the clanging,How the danger ebbs and flows:Yet the ear distinctly tells,In the jangling,And the wrangling,How the danger sinks and swells,By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells—Of the bells—Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells—In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!

Hear the tolling of the bells—Iron bells!What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!In the silence of the night,How we shiver with affrightAt the melancholy menace of their tone!For every sound that floatsFrom the rust within their throatsIs a groan.And the people—ah, the people—They that dwell up in the steeple,All alone,And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,In that muffled monotone,Feel a glory in so rollingOn the human heart a stone—They are neither man nor woman—They are neither brute nor human—They are Ghouls:And their king it is who tolls;And he rolls, rolls, rolls,RollsA paean from the bells!And his merry bosom swellsWith the paean of the bells!And he dances, and he yells;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the paean of the bells—Of the bells:Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the throbbing of the bellsOf the bells, bells, bells—To the sobbing of the bells;Keeping time, time, time,As he knells, knells, knells,In a happy Runic rhyme,To the rolling of the bells—Of the bells, bells, bells:To the tolling of the bells,Of the bells, bells, bells, bells—Bells, bells, bells—To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

Что это значит: строка за строкой

Строки с 1 по 14: Silver bells on sledges create a scene of winter pleasure. Their light sounds seem to match the sparkling stars and keep a musical beat. Repeated words and closely linked rhymes imitate the continuous jingling, making the reader hear the happiness the speaker describes.

Строки с 15 по 35: Golden wedding bells suggest love, celebration, and hope for the future. The night is warm rather than icy, and a turtle-dove listens beneath the moon. Images of flowing liquid make the music feel rich and abundant. Swelling phrases and repeated ringing sounds extend the sense of happiness.

Строки с 36 по 69: Brazen alarm bells announce a terrifying fire. They seem to scream and plead with flames that cannot listen. Harsh sound words replace the earlier musical sweetness, while repeated upward movements suggest both climbing flames and growing fear. Changes in the bells’ volume allow listeners to follow the danger as it rises and falls.

Строки с 70 по 113: Iron bells bring solemn fear and sorrow. Their rusty voices become groans, and the speaker imagines their ringers as ghouls who enjoy weighing down human hearts. Their king dances to sounds that cause others pain. Rhythms from the opening return in a darker setting, joining his celebration to the bells’ sobbing and mourning.

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Три вопроса для размышления

How do the different metals and nighttime settings help distinguish the four kinds of bells?
What changes in the poem’s sounds make the alarm bells feel different from the wedding bells?
How does the ghoul king’s pleasure affect your understanding of the final section’s sorrow?

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