Ещё одно стихотворение оттуда же.
Это в гугле встречается, но на всякий случай...
Error.
Once upon a midnight dreary,
While I pondered, weak and weary,
Over the keyboard, laboring
At my self-appointed chore.
As I wrote my composition,
For a poetry competition,
At last I was near completion.
Then it could go out the door.
"Another stanza," I muttered,
"Then I send it out the door--
Only this and nothing more."
Remember well do I that moon,
Of hundred years, the wettest June;
Each day it showered. I thought soon
It would end and rain no more.
I had read of a Web contest,
For a poem to be judged greatest,
With nothing going to the rest,
First prize was a motherboar'.
If I won this great bounty,
This wonderful motherboar',
Grateful I for evermore.
As I paused to drink some foul brew,
Windows then crashed, dead screen of blue.
My work was lost, my fears came true,
My heart sank down to the floor.a
My first action was to reboot,
But this effort bore me no fruit.
Bill Gates I most wished to shoot,
Hatred for him now I bore.
The next step was to flip the switch,
Hatred for him now I bore.
But reboot I tried once more.
Having failed, I toggled power.
My work due in just one hour,
Not much time left to recover
What I'd written from before.
I opened up the Explorer,
And searched each and ev'ry drawer.
The file not found to my horror,
No use my computer lore.
Recycle Bin refused to open,
No use my computer lore,
Darkness there and nothing more.
In the corner, brightly blinking,
Sat an icon, ever winking.
On it I tried double clicking,
Knowing not what was in store.
Then appeared a dreaded feature,
The Paperclip, loathsome creature,
Spawn of Bob, and useless teacher.
Added they to it still more.
From the speakers its voice sounded,
As my terror grew still more,
Quoth the Paperclip, "Error."
Hoping the clip I could banish,
First I tried to make Word vanish,
But the screen just changed to Spanish,
Which angered me to the core.
The clip I tried to disable,
Pounding my fist on the table.
All I did was still unable
To remove what made me roar.
But in English the voice spoke
Compelling me to again roar.
Quoth the Paperclip, "Error."
Sensing that it faced replacement,
This motherboard feared the basement.
To save itself, sent this torment.
On me it had declared war.
I recalled, there was a copy,
Earlier saved, on backup floppy,
An old version, somewhat sloppy,
The file I had to restore.
In the drive I placed the disk,
With my last chance to restore,
This it is and nothing more.
I asked, "Is my file still present
On my disk? Thou most unpleasant
Fast'ner that the poorest peasant
Would never pick up off the floor!"
To the disk I navigated,
Glaring at the clip I hated,
But it seemed that I was fated
To see my poem nevermore,
For the disk could not be read so
I saw my poem nevermore,
Quoth the Paperclip, "Error."
Error.
Once upon a midnight dreary,
While I pondered, weak and weary,
Over the keyboard, laboring
At my self-appointed chore.
As I wrote my composition,
For a poetry competition,
At last I was near completion.
Then it could go out the door.
"Another stanza," I muttered,
"Then I send it out the door--
Only this and nothing more."
Remember well do I that moon,
Of hundred years, the wettest June;
Each day it showered. I thought soon
It would end and rain no more.
I had read of a Web contest,
For a poem to be judged greatest,
With nothing going to the rest,
First prize was a motherboar'.
If I won this great bounty,
This wonderful motherboar',
Grateful I for evermore.
As I paused to drink some foul brew,
Windows then crashed, dead screen of blue.
My work was lost, my fears came true,
My heart sank down to the floor.a
My first action was to reboot,
But this effort bore me no fruit.
Bill Gates I most wished to shoot,
Hatred for him now I bore.
The next step was to flip the switch,
Hatred for him now I bore.
But reboot I tried once more.
Having failed, I toggled power.
My work due in just one hour,
Not much time left to recover
What I'd written from before.
I opened up the Explorer,
And searched each and ev'ry drawer.
The file not found to my horror,
No use my computer lore.
Recycle Bin refused to open,
No use my computer lore,
Darkness there and nothing more.
In the corner, brightly blinking,
Sat an icon, ever winking.
On it I tried double clicking,
Knowing not what was in store.
Then appeared a dreaded feature,
The Paperclip, loathsome creature,
Spawn of Bob, and useless teacher.
Added they to it still more.
From the speakers its voice sounded,
As my terror grew still more,
Quoth the Paperclip, "Error."
Hoping the clip I could banish,
First I tried to make Word vanish,
But the screen just changed to Spanish,
Which angered me to the core.
The clip I tried to disable,
Pounding my fist on the table.
All I did was still unable
To remove what made me roar.
But in English the voice spoke
Compelling me to again roar.
Quoth the Paperclip, "Error."
Sensing that it faced replacement,
This motherboard feared the basement.
To save itself, sent this torment.
On me it had declared war.
I recalled, there was a copy,
Earlier saved, on backup floppy,
An old version, somewhat sloppy,
The file I had to restore.
In the drive I placed the disk,
With my last chance to restore,
This it is and nothing more.
I asked, "Is my file still present
On my disk? Thou most unpleasant
Fast'ner that the poorest peasant
Would never pick up off the floor!"
To the disk I navigated,
Glaring at the clip I hated,
But it seemed that I was fated
To see my poem nevermore,
For the disk could not be read so
I saw my poem nevermore,
Quoth the Paperclip, "Error."