Romanticizmi ne pikture

[maratonomak]

ja ku e ke, por ku esht romantizmi ketu, ky esht talebanizem lol.

caravaggio

une kam pare nje tjeter pikture te kesaj permbajtje , nga u njejti piktor por , nejse ,

kjo foto nuk ka te beje me temen , mbi [romanticismin] ,

thjesht e kujtova kete foto dhe doja ta shihja dhe ta komentoja,
ne pikturen qe kam pare une shoh nje david te pikelluar me shpaten poshte , duke pare koken e goliatit , gjithe meshire dhe dhimbje ,

[broken_smile]

Nje puthje e embel qe dy te rinj, te veshur me veshjet karakteristike te mesjetes, shkembejne nxitimthi ne fund te shkalleve te nje ndertese. E interpretuar pres disave si nje lamtumire, interpretim i favorizuar nga fytyra e mbuluar e djalit, ndoshta ai nje konspirator ose nje vullnetar i thjeshte teksa i dhuron puthjen e fundit te dashures se tij. Duket qarte arma qe mban ne brez dhe nje hije e nje personi te trete ne te majten qe i pergjon. Veshja e vajzes prej mendafshi me reflekse te shkelqeyeshme e pasuron me drite kompozimin.

[broken_smile]

Théodore Géricault. Le radeau de la Meduse, 1819, Paris, Louvre

[uj me gaz]

John William Waterhouse, Gathering Almond Blossoms, 1916, Oil on canvas, Private Collection

per me shume: http://www.jwwaterhouse.com/

[broken_smile]

John William Waterhouse, Gathering Almond Blossoms, 1916, Oil on canvas, Private Collection

kjo poezi mendoj se do ta pershkruante me mire kete pikture qe solle..

La belle dame sans merci

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering;
The sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful, a faery's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She look'd at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew;
And sure in language strange she said,
I love thee true.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gaz'd and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild sad eyes--
So kiss'd to sleep.

And there we slumber'd on the moss,
And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
Who cry'd--"La belle Dame sans merci
Hath thee in thrall!"

I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke, and found me here
On the cold hill side.

And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

John Keats

[uj me gaz]

John William Waterhouse, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 1893, Oil on canvas, Hessisches Landesmuseum - Darmstadt, Germany

[broken_smile]

John William Waterhouse, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 1893, Oil on canvas, Hessisches Landesmuseum - Darmstadt, Germany

akoma me mire

[MI CORAZON]

Poston gjera te bukura ti "broken smile", ndaj te ndjek pas.

Ndersa po shikoja sot nje koleksion te Victor Ostrovsky-t, me lane mbresa disa prej pikturave te tij.

"Last Farewell"

[Robbery]

Shume teme e bukur Broken

Mua personalisht nuk me pelqen shume levizja romantike gjithsesi nder te shumtit me pelqen Caspar David Friedrich..

http://www.francescomorante.it/images/302c1.jpg

Johann Heinrich Füssli
http://image.aladin.co.kr/Community/...1175388895.jpg

Etj etj..

[xhibi]

Shume teme e bukur buzeqeshje e thyer

Po vertet.