Poezii/versuri preferate

'..My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,

and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.

When I get back around to that place,

I'll be completely sober.

..

The day is coming when I fly off,

but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?

Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? ..

I cannot stop asking.

If I could taste one sip of an answer,

I could break out of this prison for drunks.

I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.

Whoever brought me here, will have to take me home

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.

I don't plan it.

When I'm outside the saying of it,

I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.'

Uneori viaţa

pare egală

cu teama de viaţă

sau

cu teama

de acele lucruri

ce nu s

Throw Yourself Like Seed

Shake off this sadness, and recover your spirit

sluggish you will never see the wheel of fate

that brushes your heel as it turns going by,

the man who wants to live is the man in whom life is abundant.

Now you are only giving food to that final pain

which is slowly winding you in the nets of death,

but to live is to work, and the only thing which lasts

is the work; start then, turn to the work.

Throw yourself like seed as you walk, and into your own field,

don't turn your face for that would be to turn it to death,

and do not let the past weigh down your motion.

Leave what's alive in the furrow, what's dead in yourself,

for life does not move in the same way as a group of clouds;

from your work you will be able one day to gather yourself.

~ Miguel De Unamuno ~

In desert

Am vazut o creatura, goala, ca o fiara,

Care, ghemuita la pamant,

Isi tinea inima in maini,

Si manca din ea.

Am spus: "E buna, prietene?"

"E amara - amara", mi-a raspuns;

"Dar imi place

Pentru ca e amara,

Si pentru ca este a mea."

In desert, de Stephen Crane

Am găsit-o ieri

Grigore Vieru - Oglinda clipelor

Ne uitam ca doi copii

In oglinda stelei vii.

Unde-i oare clipa cea

De-o sorbeam si ne sorbea?!

Ne uitam nebuni si goi

In oglinda stelei noi.

Unde-i oare clipa cea

De-o sorbeam si ne sorbea?!

Ne uitam ca doi batrani

In oglinda unei paini.

Unde-i clipa de candva

De-o sorbeam si ne sorbea?!

Arthur Rimbaud - Prima Seara

Ea era gratios dezvelita

Si indiscreti arbori greoi

Zvarleau

Si nu

ne vom intalni

niciodata

doua clape negre

de pian

ne scriem

trei scrisori pe an

pe o hartie aspra

nefiligranata

vibram

in lumea grava

a basului etern

spre coltul partiturii

notele

se cern

E usor a scrie versuri

C

"I exist as I am, that is enough,

If no other in the world be aware I sit content,

And if each and all be aware I sit content.

One world is aware, and by the far the largest to me, and that

is myself,

And whether I come to my own today or in ten thousand

or ten million years,

I can cheerfully take it now, or with equal cheerfulness,

I can wait."

- Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass