"Am I to you" – 22218 rezultate
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Delicventa_juvenila
M-am nascut, exist, dar cine sunt? [ancheta sociala]
de oricealtceva
MNMillosh Gjergj Nikolla
Millosh Gjergj Nikolla (October 13, 1911 - August 26, 1938) was an Albanian poet born in Shkodër, Albania. Migjeni, pen name of Millosh Gjergj Nikolla, was born in Shkodra. In a letter of 12 January 1936 written to translator Skënder Luarasi (1900-1982) in Tirana, Migjeni announced, "I am about to send my songs to press. Since, while you were here, you promised that you would take charge of speaking to some publisher, ‘Gutemberg’ for instance, I would now like to remind you of this promise, informing you that I am ready." Two days later, Migjeni received the transfer he had earlier requested to the mountain village of Puka and on 18 April 1936 began his activities as the headmaster of the run-down school there. The clear mountain air did him some good, but the poverty and misery of the mountain tribes in and around Puka were even more overwhelming than that which he had experienced among the inhabitants of the coastal plain. Many of the children came to school barefoot and hungry, and...
2 poezii, 0 proze
andra picincu
I started to develop my skills relevant to the business field and PR when I worked as a virtual assistant and, later, as a journalist. My studies on public relations in marketing, advertising techniques and guidelines on various issues have been promoted by well known publications worldwide, including USA Today and HealthCare.com. I have degrees in human resources management, business communication, PR, Banking and Finances, business administration and certificates in trauma and stress management. I speak four languages and I’m motivated to do my best. I have the drive and motivation to do my very best every day. I dedicated my time to improve my skills and knowledge, achieving several degrees in business and communication, although I am very young. I have the best qualifications, being responsible, friendly, having good communication and interpersonal skills. I can handle people with high temper satisfactorily and I can work under pressure.
2 poezii, 0 proze
AJadrian jigăranu
25 iunie 1985 Are you a child of the free to be you and me generation And are you in tune with the world around you I am a child of the free to be you and me generation And I am with you in being in tune We shall bring change to this place Listen to the whistle of the planet twirlin through space Singin la la la la la la to the human race (she says) I believe I am the flower of life, the earth And the ocean oh oh I believe I feel the power of light, vibrate All around me oh oh I believe you are the children of the one great spirit, oh oh Are you a child of the free to be you and me generation And are you confused with the world around you I am a child of the free to be you and me generation And I am with you in being confused Children children can you hear it Listen to the riddle in the melody by great spirit Singin la la la la la la theres nothin to it (he says) I believe I am the flower of life, the air And the sunshine oh oh I believe I am the power of light, the motive For the...
117 poezii, 0 proze
VVVeronica Văleanu
All expression of energy in this universe must end where it began. Walter Russell I am a survivivore. And for a survivivore, its predatory condition is strictly related to consuming its own survivals. Born - every time I was signalled to. Married, two children. Printer.s Devil Review, vol.2, no.2 Chicago Poetry Review, Poetry Cram 14, Journal of Modern Poetry Randomly Accessed Poetics World Poetry Reading Series, Featured Poets Ygdrasil, A Journal of the Poetic Arts, vol.XXII, issue 3 ...as I said: Nobody can live real poetry. You have to survive it.
185 poezii, 0 proze
Radu Contes
The beginning of my childhood was profoundly marked by one of my grandfather’s passions – literature. For him reading, living, the writings of so many did not seem to be enough, so he began writing his own stories that still echo in my memory and in my heart. I remember that one day I went to him and asked “What are you writing about?”. Looking at me for only a second and returning his eyes at the ink stained notebook he answered: “My life”. Regretful, I confess that that was the last dialogue we had. After that I began reading, reading everything he was writing. Two years after his death, I had met someone who changed everything. I stopped reading and began writing myself. It was such a new feeling. It seemed to be never ending. It still feels. Since the first time, you may think I am exaggerating, but it really was the first time I saw her when I felt this sudden urge of writing. Words like “Thank you” seem meaningless compared to the things that you have done for me.
2 poezii, 0 proze
ROruxandra olteanu
I am getting closer to myself...I'll let you know when I have news ...
5 poezii, 0 proze
Carla Ionita
I am the damnedest creature! I make you think of the old story about Alexander the Great. He wept when there were no more worlds to conquerr. Will I weep when there are no more rules to break?
2 poezii, 0 proze
ANandra n
"it looks i've reached the crossroad.. remains of what i am still still waiting on the sidewalk to fill this peaceful day the burden of a choice my past dissolved..erased would you belive my world?"
1 poezii, 0 proze
DIDan Iordache
Am imigrat cu familia in Québec, Canada. In tara am fost traducator, profesor de istorie si engleza, fotoreporter si jurnalist. In Québec, am reluat studiile de arte plastice, am obtinut un Certificat in Artele Visuale. Din 2002 sunt artist visual profesionist iar din 2003 predau expresiunea artistica (in special pictura acrilica si acuarela).O parte din ce am facut se poate vedea fie pe www.artsquebec.ca (ca Ion Danu) fie pe id.sito.org/yan. I've immigrated to Sherbrooke, Quebec, Canada, with my family. In the old country I was a translator, a history teacher, a reporter, journalist and such. Here, in Quebec, I've did all kind of odd jobs and studied art until I've found my last job as an art teacher (and freelance visual artist). If interested, you can see what I do at : http://id.sito.org/yan/ J'ai imigré au Québec avec ma famille. En Roumanie, j'étais traducteur, professeur d'historie et d'anglais, photo reporter, journaliste. Au Québec, j'ai étudié à l'Université (j'ai une...
5 poezii, 0 proze
AAmara
"Poet divin, lumina fara moarte m-ajute-n grai iubirea-n veci fierbinte cu care pururi ti-am citit din carte" Infernul - Dante Alighieri This is me for forever One of the lost ones The one without a name Without an honest heart as compass This is me for forever One without a name These lines the last endeavor To find the missing lifeline Nemo - Nightwish Last dance, first kiss Your touch my bliss Beauty always comes with dark thoughts I wish... Wish I had an Angel - Nightwish
4 poezii, 0 proze
Heart of glass
de Miruna Gavriliu
What am I to you? - A black-and-white pokemon pinned on a canvas, a fluffy explorer roaming the interstellar space, a drop-dead hag, but not yet in her bloom Yet no harm’s done And nothing’s coming...
to hell and back
de oana stanescu
Sometimes I feel like I’m falling appart Sometimes I’m just dying without any questions..or thoughts..or reasons.. Sometimes my head is so heavy almost like a burden how can I get rid of that single...
Song of wine
de Emile Nelligan
Fresh in joy\'s live light all things coincide, This fine may eve! like living hopes that once Were in my heart, the choring birds once Their prelude to my window open wide. O fine may eve! o happy...
A Pact
de Ezra Pound
I make a pact with you, Walt Whitman-- I have detested you long enough. I come to you as a grown child Who has had a pig-headed father; I am old enough now to make friends. It was you that broke the...
Selected strophes from Les Chants de Maldoror Translated by Dan Clore
de Comte de Lautreamont
Canto I: 6 You should let your fingernails grow for fifteen days. Oh! -- How sweet it is to brutally tear a youth with a hairless upper lip from his bed and, eyes wide open, pretend that you\'ll...
Phoenix
de Sepia
Shall I cry again For your tears, Phoenix? Shall I let myself be spreaded again, Along with your ashes? You redeem me every time I lose my soul Somewhere, amidst the ruins of Svarog... Shall I...
Sonnet LVIII
de William Shakespeare
That god forbid that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand the account of hours to crave ,Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure! O, let...
Dialogue Between a Priest and a Dying Man (1782)
de Donatien Alphonse François, marquis de Sade
PRIEST - Come to this the fatal hour when at last from the eyes of deluded man the scales must fall away, and be shown the cruel picture of his errors and his vices - say, my son, do you not repent...
Cyber Lesson Learned
de Ohm
A letter is being written for you. 10/26 Written in draft form, why? Because I know not what else to do? It is as cold here, in draft, as it is in my heart. My body chilled, by your absence. My mind...