Diana Muresan

There was a young lover who lived far away That missed her boyfriend much He was in her mind and her heart every day But, alas! they couldn\'t touch.

There was a little girl who couldn\'t go to sleep No matter how much she tried to count sheep But when she thought of every happy day Awake she could no longer stay

Sleepy birch trees wake Under the wind\'s caresses Statues shivering

Heavy twisted vines Mirroring the blue twilight One path to follow

Once upon a time there was a little town called Dunno. Its inhabitants were few but they did not know that, because they did not bother counting too much. They had few visitors coming to Dunno. They

I want everything. I want too much and there is so little time. Every choice I make feels like surgery, like carving the lamb chop of life and leaving a tasty bit for someone else to enjoy. Gosh... I

Souls&Feelings Ltd. are liquidating stock Now selling by the bulk Full sets of: Guilt and remorse Shame and virtue Love and devotion Honesty and patience Calm and integrity Do not miss this

Oh…another busy day gone. Home at last. I got used to the dirty pink. It doesn’t seem so horrible now that I have planted my joyful red ribbons in the gigantic wholes in the wall. And the peeling

The young woman lay on a circular metal grey bed. Her eyes were the first to draw Citkpra’s attention–there was this incomprehensibly intense battle within the sockets; although shut, they were like

I spy with my little eye… what? Oh, just a pink stranger waiting for the bus. She looks fairly young, just a teenager. It’s difficult not to look at her. Her hair is pink, her trousers, her blouse,

Minute by minute some thirteen-fourteen girls fill up the small room with purple benches and a cottage piano. They all stop to greet the professor, a man in his late forties, going nicely (and

Her face flushed with emotion as she joined the traditional singers from Maramureş and the rhythm of the dance quickened. She loved it. She got to taste delicious Romanian food and red wine. Two

Petals deal happy deceit.

Skin dew of passion.

Virgin whore and idiot genius

Sharks sniffing fresh blood.

A serpent of light inside.

world grey play as pink or white n black can anyone c it the real news beyond the glass matters more n hollywood remember it never too late to act

Every afternoon the old man would baby-sit his grandchildren, George and Diana, aged nine and four. Both his daughter and his son in law, the parents of these happy innocent creatures, were at work.

I’m sitting on a chair in our little room, in front of the desk. Actually, someone is holding me in his arms and I hear a deep soothing voice telling a story about a beautiful princess. Look!