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Zeichnung, Zeichnungen, Rabe


  • Von mikajo hochgeladen

    Ein bischen geübt um nicht einzuschlafen... ;o)

Material, TechnikBleistift
Format A3
Jahr, OrtJuni 2005
Info3551 20 1 1 5 von 6 - 1 Stimme
  • 20 Kommentare Melde Dich an, um einen Kommentar zu schreiben.
  • Ilona
    sehr schöne Zeichnung
  • Gast , 13
    Super, wenn ich das erst so kann !!
  • Gast , 12
    Krah, krah, Raben mag ich gerne. die hüpfen bei uns überall rum. Ich kriege sie nur nicht richtig fotografiert, weil sie immer wegfliegen, wenn ich komme. Aber du hast diesen hier toll gemalt. Hannelore
  • Gast , 11
    Hi Jola, man sieht, du hattest Spaß diesen listigen Vogel zu zeichnen:))Du hast es sogar geschafft, ein wenig von seinem Humor rüber zu bringen, an den ich bei Tieren ganz fest glaube. Dieser Vogel schaut uns verschmitzt über die Schulter an und sagt:
    "Sitz ich so richtig?"
    Sehr gute gezeichnet Jola!
    Liebe Grüße,
  • mikajo
    Nein @efwe, der Rabe grins uns an, so wie ich Dich jetzt :o) Danke!
  • efwe
    gut geübt-er der rabe lacht uns aus ;-)))
  • mikajo
    Dankeschön, liebe Susan! :o)
  • Gast , 9
  • mikajo
    @123, hast Du Dir Mühe gegeben..... danke. :o)
    @Azarov Alexander
    ...Und der Rabe rührt' sich nimmer,
    sitzt noch immer, sitzt noch immer..... Liebe Grüße. :o)
  • Azarov Alexander
    Azarov Alexander
    aroganz ars
  • 123
    bildung, comar!
  • Azarov Alexander
    Azarov Alexander
  • 123
    The Raven
    by Edgar Allan Poe

    First Published in 1845

    Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
    Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
    As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
    " 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
    Only this, and nothing more."

    Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
    And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
    For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
    Nameless here forevermore.

    And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
    Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
    " 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
    Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
    This it is, and nothing more."

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
    "Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
    That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

    Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
    Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
    Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
    "Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
    Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
    "Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
    Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
    Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
    " 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
    In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
    But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
    Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
    Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

    Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
    By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
    "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
    Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
    Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
    Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
    Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
    With such name as "Nevermore."

    But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
    That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
    Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
    On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
    Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
    "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
    Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
    Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
    Of "Never---nevermore."

    But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
    Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
    What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
    Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

    Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
    To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
    But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
    She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
    Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
    Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
    Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
    Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
    On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
    Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
    By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
    Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

    "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
    "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
    Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
    Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

    And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
    On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
    And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
    And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
    Shall be lifted---nevermore!
  • mikajo
    Es motiviert mich unheimlich! Dankeschön! LG Jolanta
  • Eve Prädelt
    Eve Prädelt
    toll geworden, ich glaube er war auf der Sonnenbank, gelle? :-)
    Lieben Gruß
  • Angelika Reeg
    Angelika Reeg
    aber super geübt, klasse gezeichnet lg angy ;-))
  • Gast , 4
    Hallo super Bild, toll gezeichnet,viele grüsse mini
  • Azarov Alexander
    Azarov Alexander
    wow die federn sehen wirklich krass aus, klasse !!! es sicht mehr wie mit kohle gez. wegen auflösung ,oder schlechtes papir qalität?
  • paulgauguin
    Liebe Jola, Deine Zeichnungen werden immer besser. Hut ab für diesen Raben. PG
  • Gast , 1
    Hö jola, da hast du einen meiner Lieblingsvögel gezeichnet. Eines der intelligentesten Vogelarten die wir kennen. Sehr gut gelungen, großes Kompliment.LG.Wilando:o)))))