ragen – -Translation – Keybot Dictionary

  Kleiner Hüpfer - Ultral...  

Show textShow cached sourceOpen source URL	30 Meter ragen sie nahe Falkirk himmelwärts: ­zwei stählerne Pferdeköpfe, deren Hälse aus der Erdezu wachsen scheinen
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  Dänisches Herzklopfen |...  

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Fast im selben Moment beginnt alles zu beben. Donner rollt heran, Menschen schreien, krachend tobt ein Ungetüm vorbei. Ausgestreckte Arme ragen daraus hervor. Dann ist es wieder still. Der Berg schwankt sachte nach.

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Deep within the mountain, the gap narrows. Will Gurley scrambles on, but he calls back in warning: “Careful! Don’t bang your heads.” Almost immediately, everything begins to quake. The sound of thunder approaches and people scream as a monster roars by, bristling with outstretched arms. Then all is quiet again. The mountain sways gently in the aftermath. Where are we? At the Tivoli Gardens, one of the world’s oldest surviving amusement parks – a fantasy land at the heart of the Danish capital between Central Station and the town hall. The moving mountain through which the 36-year-old designer has just led us is a timber, concrete and steel construction that’s part of the old Rutschebanen Roller Coaster, one of the Tivoli’s main attractions. Celebrities from all over the world have ridden this roller coaster, as has practically every Danish child – only to return later with their own children. The Tivoli is closely interwoven with the Danish identity and with the fact that in some small way, we always remain the child we once were.

  Reise durch Georgien: E...  

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Zweieinhalb Stunden westlich von Tiflis hat sich diese Zeit ein monumentales Denkmal gesetzt, das inzwischen laut quietscht und rostet, von dem der Lack abblättert. „Tschiatura, unser Stolz“ steht in riesigen Lettern an einem der Berghänge, die rund um die Stadt in den Himmel ragen.

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I set out in search of modern Georgia – and end up right back where I started – in the past. This time, I find myself in the Soviet era, in the years of promises, of superlatives, of megalomania. Two-and-a-half hours west of Tiflis is a colossal monument that squeaks and rusts where the paint is peeling off. The words “Chiatura, my pride” are written in towering letters on a cliff outside of the city. Concrete blocks rise like avant-garde installations in the foreground. Cable cars connect the city center with the districts in the foothills. Stalin built Chiatura in the 1950s, when manganese mining had its heyday. Chiatura is situated in the Imeretia region at the foot of the Greater Caucasus, where one of the world’s largest deposits of manganese was found. The metal was needed for use as a fertilizer, for coloring glass and bricks, and for tempering steel. The ore was transported down the mountains by the ton, bringing in money and along with it pride, hopes and dreams.

  Dänisches Herzklopfen |...  

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Lässig gekleidete Paare schieben Kinderwagen, Touristen aus Indien fotografieren sich mit ihren Smartphones vor den Tulpen­beeten. Der Spaziergang über die Kieswege des Tivoli kann zum Hindernislauf werden, so viele zum Selfie ausgestreckte Arme ragen einem in den Weg.

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Lars Liebst, the park’s director, is sitting in the hall of the Nimb hotel enjoying a cup of afternoon coffee. “I grew up on an island,” he says, “and when I was five, my grandfather brought me to Copenhagen. I can still recall the smell of freshly baked ice-cream cornets to this day.” For many people, a ticket to the Tivoli is a ticket to their own childhood, even though all is not as it used to be, of course. Casually dressed young couples pass by pushing strollers, tourists from India take ­smartphone pictures by the tulip beds. With so many outstretched selfie arms, walking the Tivoli’s gravel paths becomes a bit of an obstacle course.

  Die Magie der Felsen | ...  

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13. Jahrhundert. Das Besondere: Sie ragen nicht in die Höhe, sondern stehen in Gruben und sind in den Fels gehauen, ihre Dächer schließen mit dem Erdboden ab. Nichts wurde gemauert, Wände, Säulen und Fenster sind aus einem Stück bis zu zwölf Meter tief ins terrakottarote Vulkangestein gemeißelt.

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At the heart of the highlands lies Lalibela, a town of roughly 22 000 inhabitants. Its claim to fame is its eleven stone churches dating from the 12th and 13th century. Instead of rising into the sky, they are hewn into the rock floor, their roofs level with the ground. No bricks were used in their construction, either: Walls, pillars and windows are all carved from a single block of terracotta-colored rock. These rock churches form a UNESCO World Cultural Heritage Site, which remains to this day one of the holiest sites for the over 1600-year-old Ethiopian Orthodox religion. At Christmas, which is celebrated on January 7, 60 000 people pilgrimage to Lalibela.

  Surinam: Wald unter Was...  

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Aber so ist es nicht. Zumindest die Bäume sind geblieben, bis heute ragen ihre Äste aus dem Wasser. Hunderttausende Bäume, also kann die Geschichte weitergehen. Denn das Holz bringt Geld, bringt Arbeit.

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And there’s da Silva, the Brazilian underwater forestry worker. The timber in the sea has amazing qualities, he says. Even after around 50 years in the water, this tropical wood is still serviceable. Hardwood, top quality, naturally impregnated to withstand all manner of damage, it’s the ideal material for European terraces. Seven of the couple of hundred varieties of timber found here are interesting to the industry, including robust Guyana teak, walaba and the wood of the fava tree.

  Hoch hinaus | Lufthansa...  

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Eine Öffnung des Gebäudes wie bei seinen südostasiatischen Bauten verbietet sich in Deutschland schon wegen des Klimas. Scheeren lässt stattdessen Luxuslofts mit viel Glas und Terrassen in verschiedene Richtungen aus dem alten Baukern ragen.

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The first project in Germany, the Riverpark Tower on the banks of the Main River in Frankfurt, is also not a new build but a conversion of a 1970s office block. “We are showing what incredibly positive and bold changes can be made to an existing building; how you can turn a hulking, forbidding concrete block into something really light, open and communicative.” The climate in Germany makes opening up a building in the way of the Southeast Asian projects unviable. So here, Scheeren creates luxury lofts with plenty of glass and terraces that face in different directions projecting from the core of the original building. A successful formula still has to be found for tower blocks that serve the community in colder climes – or something brand new will have to be developed. “In Asia, this highrise typology is inevitable, but of course, there is still a great deal that goes beyond it.”

  Die dunkle Seite der Gr...  

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Für die ruhesuchenden Anwohner wie für die Clubbetreiber. Drinnen geht Milan zielstrebig auf die Musik­anlage zu und plaudert mit dem DJ. Unter dem Flackern Hunderter Glühbirnen wirkt der Dancefloor wie ein Wackelpudding, aus dem Arme und Beine ragen.

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A dark-haired man in red jogging gear blazes a path through the crowd, raindrops beading off the lacquer fabric of his suit. Mirik Milan has his hood pulled over his head, but is immediately recognized by the bouncer at the Jimmy Woo club, a woman with a blond quiff and a neckful of tattoos. Milan is Night Mayor of Amsterdam, after all, the patron saint of reveling bachelors, the representative of all creatures of the night  – of locals desirous of a quiet life and club operators alike. Inside the Jimmy Woo, Milan marches over to the console and shares some news with the DJ. Beneath the flickering of hundreds of light bulbs, the dance floor resembles a large piece of jello with protruding arms and legs.

  Bhutan: Über allen Gipf...  

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Dann kraxelt unser Geländewagen auf 3100 Meter Höhe über den Dochula-­Pass. Nebel nimmt uns die Sicht. Wo er aufbricht, ragen Klippen aus dem flaschengrünen Dschungel. Zwischen die Felsspitzen haben Gläubige Gebetsfahnen gehängt.

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We drive from Thimphu to Punakha. Along the way, we pass the world’s tallest statue of Buddha, a gleaming gold, 52-meter figure of the religion founder set high above the valley. A businessman from Hong Kong financed this XXL pilgrimage site. The Chinese are not just building roads here, but sacred monuments, as well. Then our all-terrain vehicle climbs over the Dochula Pass, 3100 meters up. Fog robs us of our visibility. Where chinks appear, we catch sight of steep bluffs rising from the bottle-green jungle. Believers have hung prayer flags between the crags – colorful floss in the jaws of a giant.

  Bei den sanften Riesen ...  

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1983 wurden Teile des Areals zum Schutzgebiet erklärt, seit 2012 umfasst es die gesamte Kings Bay. Überall ragen Schilder aus dem Wasser, die „Idle Speed“ und „No Wake“ anmahnen: im Leerlauf fahren, Kielwellen vermeiden.

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Part of the area was turned into a nature reserve in 1983. In 2012, the reserve was extended to include all of Kings Bay. Everywhere you look, you see signs sticking out of the water cautioning “Idle speed” and “No wake.” If you ignore the signs, you are issued a speeding ticket and may even lose your tour guide license. This rankles with some conservative types who consider it an infringement on their personal freedom. More than two thirds of Citrus County residents voted for Trump, and the streets are adorned with huge U.S. flags. Confederate flags flutter in front of some houses as well. The local

  Lufthansa #inspiredby E...  

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Es ist heiß, ein süßlicher Geruch nach ungewaschener Haut und Tütensuppe liegt in der Luft. Füße hängen im Gang, ­Ellenbogen ragen aus den Betten, die meisten Reisenden liegen auf ihren Pritschen, schlafen, eine Gruppe Soldaten spielt Karten.

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Lunch awaits us in the dining car. On the way there, we pass through seven third-class carriages. Doors and private sphere are non-existent here. A hot, sweetish smell of unwashed skin and packet soup hangs in the air. Feet droop into the aisle, elbows protrude from beds. Most of the passengers are lying on their bunks, sleeping; there’s a group of soldiers playing cards. The pictures in the travel agency’s brochures show gold, teak wood, red plush, the Trans-Siberian Railway, the pride of the Russian Federation. But those trains are the special ones for tourists. Only Russians without the cash for an airline ticket would consider making the journey in the cramped, stuffy compartments of the regular trains – and backpackers dreaming of an old-fashioned adventure.

  Die Magie der Felsen | ...  

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Im Innern der Kirche lege ich den Kopf in den Nacken. Über zehn Meter ragen ihre steinernen Säulen empor. Der Legende nach soll Gott vor fast 1000 Jahren zu Lalibela gesprochen haben, dem „König der Bienen“ und einstigen Herrscher über das Reich Lasta in Nord­äthiopien.

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I visit Bet Medhane Alem, the largest rock church. A narrow staircase leads down into the depths. Inside the church, I gaze up at the stone pillars rising more than ten meters above me. According to legend, God spoke to Lalibela, “King of the Bees” and lone ruler over the realm of Lasta in northern Ethiopia, nearly 1000 years ago, telling him to erect the holy site in Jerusalem’s image. Within just a few days, the king carved the monumental structures out of the volcanic rock – with the help of angels during the night. At least that’s what everyone here believes. Scientists believe that at least 40 000 laborers must have worked for several decades to hew the churches into the rock.

  Lichtkünstler Keith Son...  

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Leuchtröhren von der Stange kommen dafür nicht infrage: Sonnier lässt sein Licht herstellen. „Traditionelle Neon­röhren sind flach, so als würde man Buchstaben aus Spaghetti formen. Ich möchte, dass sie sich krümmen und in den Raum ragen.“

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Off-the-shelf neon tubes won’t do for Sonnier’s works: He has his light made to order. “The traditional way to make neon is flat, like writing text with spaghetti. I wanted it to bend and come out into space.” Sonnier’s sculptures often look fragile, appear to be in motion, rolling. Looking at them, you are more likely to be put in mind of a snapshot of a primitive organism than a sculpture for eternity.

  Oman ‘“ Auf Sindbads Sp...  

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Bis zu 900 Meter hoch ragen die orangeroten und ockerfarbenen Steilwände aus dem Meer. Sie bieten einen erhabenen, seltsam monotonen Anblick: Das Auge schweift über Gesteinsschichten und Schutthänge, über aufgefaltete Erdkruste und bizarre Felsformationen – und findet bei aller Faszination doch keinen Halt, gleitet ab an einer vegeta­tionslosen Landschaft.

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Rising up to 900 meters into the sky, the cliffs here glow every shade from reddish-orange to ocher. They make a sublime, oddly monotonous sight. Our eyes take in the layers of rock and scree slopes, the folds in the earth’s crust and the bizarre rock formations – and still, for all their fascination, there’s nothing to hold our gaze, which slips away to a stretch of country entirely without vegetation.

  Europas Kulturhauptstad...  

Show textShow cached sourceOpen source URL	Das wird nun endlich bewiesen, zum Beispiel im ehemaligen Hafen. Hier steht Isbjerget (der Eisberg), ein Komplex aus 200 Apartments, direkt am Meer. Die Gebäude ragen zackig in den Himmel und sind so zueinander versetzt, dass fast jede Wohnung Wasserblick hat.
Compare text pagesCompare HTM pagesOpen source URLOpen target URLDefine magazin.lufthansa.com as primary domain	Full of information about the early history of Denmark, it features swords and battle-axes pulled from nearby marshes and prehistoric barrows, as well as an astonishing number of combs, indicating that the Vikings had a bit of a vain streak. Another jewel is Dokk1, the new city library, where Willacy has just finished his speech.

  Kosmos | Lufthansa maga...  

Show textShow cached sourceOpen source URL	Wie riesige Felsfinger ragen die nordrhein-westfälischen Externsteine in den Himmel. Esoterische Gruppen vermuten dahinter übernatürliche Kräfte –und treffen sich deshalb jedes Jahr hier, um den Frühling zu begrüßen.
Compare text pagesCompare HTM pagesOpen source URLOpen target URLDefine magazin.lufthansa.com as primary domain	Germany’s sandstone rock formation Externsteine resembles fingers pointing toward the sky. Esoteric groups consider this a supernatural sign and gather there every April 30 for Walpurgis Night.

  Ilha Grande, Brasilien:...  

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Mit 155 Kilometern Küstenlinie und 116 großen und kleinen Stränden ist Ilha Grande eine der schönsten Inseln vor der brasilianischen Küste. Dutzende von Buchten schneiden sich tief ins Land hinein, gleich hinter den Stränden ragen die Berge in den Himmel, der höchste, Pico da Pedra d’Agua, ist 1035 Meter hoch.

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Paradise is only a short boat ride away. Ferries and speedboats from the mainland tie up in the small harbor town of Vila do Abraao. In the bay, sheltered by two tiny islands, fishing boats, tourist schooners and smaller yachts lie at anchor. Behind the red-roofed houses, mountains rise up like the tiers in an amphitheater. Vila do Abraao is the largest town on Ilha Grande. It has the most guesthouses, and there are always plenty of parties on the weekend. But that’s not why people visit the island. They come to see its natural beauty, the pristine vegetation, the white powder-sugar beaches and the turquoise waters of the ocean. With a coastline extending over 155 kilometers and a total of 116 beaches, large and small, Ilha Grande is one of the most beautiful islands off the coast of Brazil. Dozens of bays cut deep into the hinterland, and just beyond the beaches, mountain peaks reach for the sky; at 1035 meters, Pico da Pedra D’Agua is the tallest. The slopes are covered by the tropical Mata Atlantica rainforest, one of the most species-rich ecosystems on the planet. Narrow trails invite visitors to discover this “Atlantic rainforest” for themselves.

  Dänisches Herzklopfen |...  

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Weiter hinten thront die rosa-pastellgrün gemusterte Konzerthalle aus den 1950er-Jahren. Zwischen Baumkronen ragen Karussells in den blauen Himmel, später wechseln Glasfassaden mit verspielten Holzhäusern ab.

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Friday morning, shortly before 11 am, a school class rattles the park gates, and men in uniform open up. The Tivoli emblem on their caps glints golden in the sunlight. Knapsacks bobbing on their backs, the kids race over to the attractions. Seniors and tourist groups stroll along behind as the park gradually fills. On just over eight hectares, an area large enough to contain only a hand­ful of apartment blocks, the park draws visitors into another world. Its most striking feature is the Nimb, a fantasy version of the Taj Mahal, which is a hotel today. Further on, the 1950s concert hall with its pink and pale-green patterning stands majestic. Carousels rise into the blue among the treetops in another part of the park, glass facades alternate with pretty wooden houses. Across from the Nimb, there’s the Pantomimeteatret, a Chinese-­inspired open-air theater dating from 1874 with all its original technology still intact. The stage’s huge curtain resembles a peacock fan and re­quires four men to operate the cable pull to raise it.

  Rio de Janeiro: Die per...  

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Ein kopiertes DinA4-Blatt erklärt die Ausstellung, die Bilder hängen ungerahmt und sympathisch unperfekt ein wenig schief. Genau über meinem Platz ragen die Brüste der Namensgeberin der Kneipe weit in den Raum: die Imaculada, die Jungfrau.

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Bar, restaurant, gallery, living room: the Imaculada is all this – and a bit more. The faces of old samba musicians look down from the monochrome portraits on one wall. The exhibition is explained on a photocopied A4 sheet; the pictures are unframed and slightly squint, giving the show an imperfect likeability.  Right above my seat the breasts of the bar’s namesake jut far into the room: the Imaculada, the virgin. What if she topples down and kills me? A small sign next to her reassures me: the maiden is made of bronze-painted polystyrene. As a basis for the evening I order fried rice and stockfish balls and take a look round the joint. The next table is occupied by a group of men instantly recognizable as artists; first, because they all wear hats or caps, and second, because one of them is passing round a series of pencil sketches. With all the bathos that comes from imbibing precisely the right quantity of ice-cold drinks, one declares “You are like a brother to me!” Perhaps it’s because of my interested glances, but I soon find myself a part of the family, a glass of cool Ambev is pressed into my hand and I discover that the fraternal drinker is an artist and one of the owners of the bar. After I promise to return, he tells me that live jazz is being played at a new bar on Mauá Square. I never get round to asking whether the bald-headed man in the corner who is scribbling in his notebook and bears striking resemblance to Paulo Coelho is really the best-selling author.