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."
I know it should be darker as the poem itself, but this is how I see this fragment, like daylight nightmares... ;-)
You have captured this bird in a perfect moment and with wonderful composition and light, very pleasant image to view here my friend and wishing you all of the best.
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{K:172232} 3/28/2007
