"Cold Song" – 20093 rezultate
0.03 secundeMeilisearchlefter sorana
Cand simti ca totul iti scapa,pamantul iti fuge de sub picioare,opreste-te o clipa,inspira,apoi expira si striga:asta e!Chiar daca totul iti pare un chin fara sfarsit,gandeste-te ca intr-o zi va lua sfarsit si va fi la fel ca la inceput:pur,cald,linistit.Nimeni si nimic nu te va deranja. Si ce daca totul e intors,totul iti merge rau,viata poate lua o alta turnura.Asta daca vrei cu adevarat!Daca te complaci in situatia in care esti,totul va fi pierdut. Trebuie sa speri,mereu sa crezi ca va fi bine!Pentru ceva te-ai nascut,dar pentru ceva bun,nu pentru chin!Fi tare,fi tu insati,fi asa cum ai fost mereu:nepasatoare,rece,dura.De ce te-ai schimbat?Nu erai asa!Unde esti,unde te-ai pierdut?Pe care drum ai ratacit?Regaseste-te! Vino!Simti ca totul e altfel?De ce lasi grijile sa te copleseasca,lasii sa te domine,raul sa te inraiasaca? SUNT DOAR UN SUFLET NEBUN CU TRUP DE FUM!
3 poezii, 0 proze
daniel moldovan
SINT SINGUR SI CAUT FETE DE LUNGA DURATA SAU SA I-MI SCRIE PE ADRESA DE ACASA MOLDOVAN DANIEL STR PETRENI NR 89 OR VATRA DORNEI JUD SUCEAVA COD 5975 SI VA ROG SA I-NI TRIMITETI SI O POZA RECENTA CU DRAG DANIEL
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AFAnatole France
Anatole France, pseudonym for Jacques Anatole Thibault (1844-1924), was the son of a Paris book dealer. He received a thorough classical education at the Collège Stanislas, a boys\' school in Paris, and for a while he studied at the École des Chartes. For about twenty years he held diverse positions, but he always had enough time for his own writings, especially during his period as assistant librarian at the Senate from 1876 to 1890. His literary output is vast, and though he is chiefly known as a novelist and storyteller, there is hardly a literary genre that he did not touch upon at one time or another. France is a writer in the mainstream of French classicism. His style, modelled on Voltaire and Fénélon, as well as his urbane scepticism and enlightened hedonism, continue the tradition of the French eighteenth century. This outlook on life, which appears in all his works, is explicitly expressed in collection of aphorisms, Le Jardin d\'Épicure (1895) [The Garden of...
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SMStephenie Meyer
Stephenie Meyer\'s life changed dramatically on June 2, 2003. The stay-at-home mother of three young sons woke up from a dream featuring seemingly real characters that she could not get out of her head. \"Though I had a million things to do, I stayed in bed, thinking about the dream. Unwillingly, I eventually got up and did the immediate necessities, and then put everything that I possibly could on the back burner and sat down at the computer to write—something I hadn\'t done in so long that I wondered why I was bothering.\" Meyer invented the plot during the day through swim lessons and potty training, and wrote it out late at night when the house was quiet. Three months later she finished her first novel, Twilight. With encouragement from her older sister (the only other person who knew she had written a book), Meyer submitted her manuscript to various literary agencies. Twilight was picked out of a slush pile at Writer\'s House and eventually made its way to the publishing...
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Nistor Paul
Am scris prima poezie in urma cu un an, dar este nesemnificativa. In urma cu cateva luni am scris o poezie care ma reprezinta si deocamdata ea reprezinta singura poezie care ii dau voie sa iasa la iveala. Restul poeziilor exprima prea mult rautate...ajunge o poezie simpla, cu adevar si in spirit fatalist. Poezia se numeste Colt din mine... si poarta dupa ea gandurile mele.
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ADAlin Stelian Dobre
00 00 00 Dialog cu Dumnezeu: -EU sunt Inceputul si Sfarsitul. Tu cine esti sau ce esti? -Eu sunt Singur pe Lume,sunt cel fara Inceput si fara Sfarsit. -Cum poti tu, un muritor sa nu ai Sfarsit? -Pentru ca eu sunt numai Suflet.Cand Sufletul se va desparti de trup asemeanea unor pasari carora le-au fost distruse cuiburile,el va colinda prin lume nelinistit,neinteles si trist, isi va gasi o noua casa si inca una si inca una...la nesfarsit. -Tu nu ma iubesti pe Mine? -Ba da te iubesc cum l-am iubit si pe tatal meu. -Tu nu ma iubesti pentru ca nu vei aduce rod pentru mine,tu esti copacul neroditor, esti cel blestemat . -Doamne, si eu am in gradina mea multi pomi neroditori si ii ud in fiecare zi si am grija de ei ca si de cei cu rod. Cand vine primavara si ciresii si visinii neroditori infloresc si totul e un colt de rai, dar din cauza raului din lume ei se scutura iar fericirea ia locul tristetii. -Frumusetea vietii voastre este data de faptul ca moartea va poate lovi in orice clipa. Daca...
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IGILIE GRIGORE
-nascut CIORANI -profesor istorie -autor:-tristete fara leac -la poalele golgotei -adameva -un lup scarbit -cand Dumnezeu a fost Copil -contemporani cu apocalipsa -si gradinile iadului sunt verzi -om in Rai Rai an om iar ân om , în Gradina Maicii Domnuluiu -Pana mea - singur pe contrasens -cand tu vei fi o baba si eu un sfinx- nepublicabila, - pământul de pe suflet - nu trebuia decât o pasăre să fie, - Amartrocinții, - colț de rai și colț de iad - Răgălie
136 poezii, 0 proze
JKJohn Keats
John Keats was born on 31 October 1795 (probably), first child of Thomas Keats and Frances Jennings Keats, who had apparently eloped1. Everything was pretty ordinary for all concerned for a while--the Keatses had three more sons (George and Thomas, plus Edward who died as a baby) and one daughter, Frances, by 1803. That was also the year when John went away to school at Enfield. In 1804, John\'s father was killed in a fall from a horse. Just over two months later, for mysterious reasons, Frances remarried, to a London bank clerk named William Rawlings. Frances quickly decided she\'d made some sort of terrible error and left, taking nothing with her since the laws of the time decreed that all her property and even her children belonged to her husband. Frances\' mother, Alice, swept in and took custody of the children, but she could do nothing about the Swan and Hoop, which Rawlings sold immediately before disappearing. It was around this time that John became prone to fistfights, which...
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GSGabriela Savitsky
Cu numele administrativ Gabriela Doina Popescu, cu numele secret și drag, Gabriela Savitsky, cu care încearcă împărăția cuvintelor, nu cu intenții neapărat cuceritoare ci, mai degrabă, cu acelea de a o adânci și a o face sonoră. Nu există, cred, întrebare mai chinuitoare pentru omul trăitor pe pământ, sub stelele de la facerea lumii, decât cea asupra rostului propriu. Ce aduce prezența lui, în plus? Ce are de făcut pentru a nu supăra ursitoarele și norocul? Unii își află răspunsul cald și oarecum liniștitor în rutina vieții zilnice în care se așează ca lutul rece în matrița pentru cărămizi crude. Cărămizi care trec prin focul evenimentelor și construiesc, cuminți, zidul omenirii, năzuind să ajungă la cer. Sunt alții mânați de-o dorință stăruitoare și neliniștită. Sunt cei care vor să afle, vor să înțeleagă, vor să-și explice, vor să spună și altora. Sunt cei pe care viața proprie nu-i încape. Fără fals orgoliu ci cu multă umilință, trebuie să recunosc a mă prenumăra printre aceștia....
28 poezii, 0 proze
ITIoan Tițian
Prenume: Ioan Nume: Tițian email: maa_eendo@yahoo.com Photo: by Me ... 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? 3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? 4 Or Love in a golden bowl? (by W. Blake) ... I ne'er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale, a deadly pale. My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked what could I ail My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away. The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start. They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice Is love's bed always snow She seemed to hear my silent voice Not love appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling place And can...
6 poezii, 0 proze
Mad Song
de William Blake
The wild winds weep And the night is a-cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps Over the eastern steeps, And the rustling birds of dawn The earth do scorn. Lo! to the...
The Oueen of darkness
de petrescu alexandra
Outside is cold and dark You dont\'n see nothing anywhere The Universe is dress in black And shadows\'s nights are everywhere. And far away a song is sing A song of hidden happiness The nature stoped...
The Seafarer
de Ezra Pound
May I for my own self song\'s truth reckon, Journey\'s jargon, how I in harsh days Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast-cares have I abided, Known on my keel many a care\'s hold, And dire sea-surge,...
All that I might be
de Florea Ana-Maria
I am a sheet of paper, Dropping out of a book, Leaving words behind, Never to return to them. My song is that of the wind, Disturbing letters in a text. I\'ll be waiting, Down here, Never to raise...
Haiku și tanka
de Marian Nicolae TOMI
* ceaiul dă în foc - the tea is boiling - cu ochii pierduți pe câmp the eyes lost on the field închizând geamul closing the window * privind un lemn uscat – looking at a dry log - înflorind fără...
The Afternoon of a Faun
de Stéphane Mallarmé
These nymphs I would perpetuate. So clear Their light carnation, that it floats in the air Heavy with tufted slumbers. Was it a dream I loved? My doubt, a heap of ancient night, is finishing In many...
For you Prince Vlad McDragon in love
de Dragoș Vișan
Puternice cinstite spirit de lumină îți lasă întunericul să cadă-n gol și din mantie pune-ți peste noi ultimii fotoni nimicitori Răsfirându-ți gheața vino-n spirit treaz hoinarule nemort ești pentru...
PARADISE LOST -- Book IX
de John Milton
Book IX No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us\'d, To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast; permitting him the while Venial discourse...
THE GRIFFIN
de Alina Mihai
I took the path of silence and of black night The sunlit world was far behind me The grass swayed gently in the moonlight And trees were tall, and starry sky And yet all these I could not see. On...
The Witch of Coos
de Robert Frost
I staid the night for shelter at a farm Behind the mountains, with a mother and son, Two old-believers. They did all the talking. MOTHER Folks think a witch who has familiar spirits She could call up...