Participants of the creative writing course and their teacher, Tomáš Pivoda, imagined in one of their sessions the atmosphere of the poem “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe and wrote their own text variations on the poem. See for yourself how successful they were. Here is the first stanza of the original:
 

Edgar Allan Poe: THE RAVEN

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 some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door–
Only this and nothing more.”

...

Variations by Inventura:

Aleš Koudela

It was midnight. I have a fever. A raven comes from a different planet similar to the Earth.

   “Would you like to play with me?”

   “Nevermore!”

   “Shut up then, and fly away, evil raven!”

   “Nevermore!”

I catch him in a cage and take him to the police. The policeman takes the bird.

   “Nevermore!”

The policeman puts the raven to sleep and takes it to a ufologist. The ufologist finds out that the raven has no DNA and that it comes from a different planet. It is an extraterrestrial. They take the raven to NASA, where it is examined. Then the raven wakes up and cries out:

    “Nevermore!”

So they tie up its beak with a belt so it can’t speak. I want the raven back, but NASA can’t give it to me because they are going to examine it. I leave disappointed and sad. But before that I take pictures of it and bring photos home as evidence.

Josef Fojt I

I’m lying in bed with a fever. Midnight has struck. Suddenly, there’s a tap, tap on the door. The door slowly opens, it probably wasn’t locked. A huge black bird is standing in the door – a raven. I try to find out where it came from and what it wants from me. But to all my questions about its visit the bird only replies: “Nevermore!” Aha, I guess it probably belongs to some weirdo who taught it to say only “Nevermore!” What should I do with it? I’m thinking, and then I realise that it would not be bad to teach it a few more words and expressions, so that it can communicate better. However, before I managed to do that, the fever subsided. My doctor, leaning over my bed, is smiling at me. He had probably been reading Poe recently.


Josef Fojt II

A black raven is pounding at my window

Why does it disturb my writing so?

I’ll write a poem about it and maybe it’ll go

But let me introduce myself

I’m Edgar Allan Poe

Tereza Hausserová

Midnight has struck. The bell on the church tower is tolling and with its last ringing I hear someone knocking at my window. I open it and a raven flies in, along with a strange cool breeze. The raven sits on the headboard and croaks. It’s bringing bad news. It’s a messenger of death. It flies away immediately. An echo remains, saying: “I will come again tomorrow!” I fear for my family. It’s dark in the room and I cannot get rid of the feeling that the raven wanted to hurt me or attack me.