Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Aprilie 29, 2013 Driving You never say anything in your letters. You say, I drove all night long through the snow in someone else Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Aprilie 30, 2013 Hard Life with Memory by Wisława Szymborska I Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 4, 2013 (editat) "I knew when I said I love you that I was inventing a new alphabet for a city where no one could read that I was saying my poems in an empty theater and pouring my wine for those who could not taste it." Nizar Qabbani, Poems Editat Mai 4, 2013 de Ea. 1 Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 8, 2013 Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 9, 2013 (editat) YOU, BELOVED, WHO WERE LOST You, beloved, who were lost before the beginning, who never came, I do not know which sounds might be precious to you. No longer do I try to recognize you, when, as a surging wave, something is about to manifest. All the huge images in me, the deeply-sensed far-away landscapes, cities and towers and bridges and un- suspected turns of the path, the powerful life of lands once filled with the presence of gods: all rise with you to find clear meaning in me, your, forever, elusive one. You, who are all the gardens I've ever looked upon, full of promise. An open window in a country house—, and you almost stepped towards me, thoughtfully. Sidestreets I happened upon,— you had just passed through them, and sometimes, in the small shops of sellers, the mirrors were still dizzy with you and gave back, frightened, my too sudden form.—Who is to say if the same bird did not resound through us both yesterday, separate, in the evening? Rainer Maria Rilke TWO RED BERRIES behind autumn’s rusty pleasure and the leaky old rowboat that is hauled out of the river year after year, a dog barking through the morning – sound check before the elk hunt there ahead, beyond the forest, awaits that which is called future you are on your way there, with two red berries in your hand, one for yourself and one for the world against power you stand equipped with the shining stubbornness of the heather, you know that this won’t be sufficient not even the four cardinal points are enough but your arms reach a dream where time is not rushing and where all children can speak all the world’s languages: every tongue enjoys a freedom which does not exist you who don’t listen to the incomprehensible will never understand anything we are not only what we are we become what we see two red berries; there you stand on the threshold of the world, you walk on the air and the wind is blowing in your hair Bengt Berg Editat Mai 9, 2013 de Ea. Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 10, 2013 THE POEM AND THE BUTTERFLY (METAMORPHOSIS) Find But a crumb of light And make a butterfly. It will stay on your eye-lashes For a long time And then enter your blood. Afterwards find A thread of rainbow And spin it around Until it is husked. Thus for a long time It will trouble you. In the end You will want to name it But from your blood A butterfly Will crawl out And Fly away Mihail Rend Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 19, 2013 Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 23, 2013 (editat) Every theory, every poem Lasts longer than this flower. But that’s like fog, which is unpleasant and damp, And bigger than this flower... Size, duration have absolutely no importance... They’re only size and duration... What matters is the flower lasting and having size... (If true dimension is reality) Being real is the only true thing in the world. ALBERRTO CAEIRO Editat Mai 23, 2013 de Ea. Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 23, 2013 Be Not Sad Be not sad because all men Prefer a lying clamour before you: Sweetheart, be at peace again -- - Can they dishonour you? They are sadder than all tears; Their lives ascend as a continual sigh. Proudly answer to their tears: As they deny, deny. James Joyce Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri
Ea. 8993 Raportează post Postat Mai 23, 2013 Night Piece Gaunt in gloom, The pale stars their torches, Enshrouded, wave. Ghostfires from heaven's far verges faint illume, Arches on soaring arches, Night's sindark nave. Seraphim, The lost hosts awaken To service till In moonless gloom each lapses muted, dim, Raised when she has and shaken Her thurible. And long and loud, To night's nave upsoaring, A starknell tolls As the bleak incense surges, cloud on cloud, Voidward from the adoring Waste of souls. James Joyce Partajează acest post Link spre post Distribuie pe alte site-uri