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Ode to a Nightingale/Is Goa in Nightingale and Song Hour Which is Impressive (a.k.a. "The Poisonous Carrot")
By John Keats 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 Office -> Korean -> English ]

New Version

The poisonous carrot
it will go out and drank like,
my grief and dull anesthesia me in 1 basin
coming out drain and a pain
the paralysis which becomes sleepy
will wind and me or what kind of it emptied it gave,
the lethe ward sank: 'thy Envy of the swallow which is happy,
but too much it is happy inside thy happiness
and it is not a multi tie, --

beech greens and inside
what kind of melody
plot of the shadow which is countless
that thou and light air of the tree
the fairy of the difficulty forest,
under sufficiency summer,
scorches inside neck ease.

The gun draft of reaping hazard

Ohath is deep and inside enduring
which has become nine
which burns long age it is cooled,
country green and bravery does with the plant coat hobby,
and the pleasure Provencal which burns in song and sunshine!

The outline and it will make with the glass beads
which the color stain do in the position mouth, --
winks frequently in the bubble
the truth
one thing, the south which the Hippocrates
which is shy is warm enough
non- not to be big and, hazard

O, it is sufficient, me it drinks,
the world it is not visible and
to leave it lets,
huy the writing which with the American
one forest fades far in the thee:
The man will sit and in the place
the fact that it will moan fade quite in over there,

melt, assuredly between fatigue,
heat generation and anguish positively,
thou here the leaf hast which is knowing forget,;
In the place where the paralysis shakes a some,
it is a young this paleness in the place and it grows,

it is sad, last the gray head and
the ghost it is thin, and it dies,;
It is beautiful in sorrow and the place in them
the tomorrow her brilliant eye, to think but,
or sufficiency of the leaden leaden-eyed despair
which will defend the new love pine tree
in over there was in the place.

Far! Far! If the brain which is dull
me in hazard thee makes win difficulty
does to be placed delays and but, day,
by the Bacchus and his attachment,
but is not a wing which is not right time
view the charioted: which Already in the thee!
The tender the night and haply queen month
by all her star adhere closely to her throne
which the cluster reaches to a circumference,;

To become dark but and the cold meal
the method which it holds the thing
to reach from heaven and except,
the verdurous in the non breeze here light.
With each sweetness as fortune
Wherewith in season proper month
the grass and the thicket, and even giving the fruit tree
which is wild there will be to a branch
where the direction which is soft is big,
inside the darkness which preservation it controls but,
guess it will hang to peel, me flower in my foot, the ball;
White mountain San'A nothing inside and pastoral song eglantine;
Comfort it is supplied inside the leaf ppa lu the fading violet;
And from May center long the child who becomes,
the dew the wine rose which comes into bearing,
the musk which comes it whispers at our summer eve
which is sufficient the habitat flight range.

U inside me which it puts it listens to,;
And many hour hazard me
continuously constant temperature grudge
it dies it is a half inside loving.
Me it will be silent and this have the air conduit breath and go,
it will be wrong and is many and and as the name
which is soft inside the rhyme which is considered carefully calls,;

Now, compared to sees that which it sometimes,
it floated is visible in order to die,
in order in pain to stand still in midnight.
That inside same self-effacement
the next thy soul with foreign countries,
the thou art which it follows! --
the wouldstthou does song yet, I inside having become Hus,
is returning home and in this Um --
thy where it takes off all high r U q u - he becomes.

The Thou the west dies,
the bird which is immortal
it is not a hazard and it scrapes out,!

The hungry occurrence does not step the thee in lower part,;
This passage night goes out and
Hwang me and
U lis by an immensity ancient times
listening to inside one the voice which it listens to:
The family hazard the sick Ruth sad heart it led and
it discovered the course probably,
her in inside of the foreign nation corn
inside a tear at the time of opinion,
the song which is identical;
In the bubble of the ocean whose five ft hours
hath are dangerous ten it fascinated the magic casement,
before the bedspread which is lonely
inside the same ground the identical water.

It was lonely,! Rightly the word is, the bell,
after carrying, from the thee in order to be excessive
in each one who me is only fee! Goodbye!
In order her description below the idle fancy
like this will cheat the well which deceives the tiny person fairy
because is famous. Goodbye! Goodbye!
The Thy the pitiable hymn comes out, the near grass is not very close
the hillside with the high piece in the silent stream, it fades;
And from the now 'tis inside the next valley glade it buried deep place:
Time or sleep it awakes it was a dream?
That music escapes,: Me it sleeps and it awakes it sleeps?

 

Original Poem

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thy happiness,--
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of Summer in full-throated ease.

O for a draught of vintage, that hath been
Cooled a long age in the deep delved earth,

Tasting of Flora and the country-green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stainèd mouth,--
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Clustered around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But in embalmèd darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast-fading violets covered up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.
Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death.
Called him soft names in many a musèd rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now, more than ever, seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight, with no pain.
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad,
In such an ecstasy!--
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain--
To thy high requiem become a sod.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell,
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the Fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hillside; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:--do I wake or sleep?

As found at http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16786/16786-8.txt.