. Der Vogel . wmany aufeinanderfolgende Tage setzte sich auf die Straße, die er bei seiner Abreise genommen hatte, heulte, und kehrte zurück.die am meisten enterbte von allen, die Katze Moquo, nicht mehr ^vertraute in irgendeiner Person, obwohl er noch kam zu betrachten {mit flüchtigen Blicken die leere Stelle. Dann toked er seinen Entschluss, und floh in den Wald, aus dem wir ^konnte nie rufen ihn zurück; er wieder sein frühes Leben, ,elend und wild. Und auch ich habe das väterliche Dach verlassen, das Herz meiner jungen Jahre, mit einem Herzen für immer verwundet.Meine Mutter, meine Schwester, meine Brüder, die süßen Freundschaften der Kindheit, verschwanden fürhin

• Bildanbieter: Reading Room 2020 / Alamy Stock Foto
• Bild-ID: 2CPJDX2
• Dateigröße: 7,2 MB (238,4 KB Komprimierter Download)
• Freigaben (Releases): Model - nein | Eigentum - nein
• Format: 3328 x 751 px | 28,2 x 6,4 cm | 11,1 x 2,5 inches | 300dpi

Weitere Informationen

Dieses Bild kann kleinere Mängel aufweisen, da es sich um ein historisches Bild oder ein Reportagebild handel

. The bird . wmany successive days-seated himself on the road whichhe had taken at his departure, howled, and returned.The most disinherited of all, the cat Moquo, no longer ^confided in any person, though he still came to regard {with fui-tive glances the empty place. Then he tookhis resolution, and fled to the woods, from which we ^could never call him back; he resumed his early life, , miserable and savage. And I, too, I quitted the paternal roof, the hearthof my young years, with a heart for ever wounded.My mother, my sister, my brothers, the sweet friend-ships of infancy, disappeared behind me. I enteredupon a life of trial and isolation. At Bayonne, how-ever, where I first resided, the sea of Biarritz spoke tome of my father; the waves which break on its shore, from America to Europe, repeated the story of his death;the snow-white ocean birds seemed to say, We have seen him. liat remained to me? My climate, my birth-land, my language. But even these I lost. I was 40 HOW THE AUTHOR WAS LED TO. compelled to go to the North, to an unknown tongueand a hostile sky, where the eai-th for half a yearwears mourning weeds. During these long seasons offrost, my failing health extinguishing imagination, Icould scarcely re-create for myself my ideal South. AdosT miorht have somewhat consoled me: in default, Imade two little friends, who resembled, I fancied, mymothers turtle-doves. They knew me, loved me, sported by my fireside; I gave to them the summerwhich my heart had not. Seriously affected, I fell very ill, and thought Ishould soon touch the other shore. However studiousand tender towards me might be the hospitality of thestranger, it was needful I should return to France.It was longr before carefulness of affection, and amarriage in which I found again a fathers heart andarms, could restore my health. I had seen deathfrom so near a view-point—let us rather say, I hadentered so far upon it—that nature herself, livingnature, that first love and rapture of my young

Stockbilder mithilfe von Tags suchen

• bookcentury1800
• bookdecade1860
• bookidbird00mi
• bücherubjektvögel