"I know why the caged bird sings" – 21104 rezultate
0.01 secundeMeilisearchBebeisme-şi-şosete
Bebeismul este definit ca lingușeală și gângureală
de sophie polansky
opinii_articole_interviuri
Opinii, articole ?i interviuri
de Adina Ungur
MAMaya Angelou
Maya Angelou born Marguerite Ann Johnson on April 4, 1928)is an American autobiographer and poet. Having been called "America's most visible black female autobiographer" by scholar Joanne M. Braxton, she is best known for her series of six autobiographies, which focus on her childhood and early adulthood experiences. The first, best-known, and most highly acclaimed, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969), focuses on the first seventeen years of her life, brought her international recognition, and was nominated for a National Book Award. Angelou has had a long and varied career, holding jobs such as fry cook, dancer, actress, journalist, educator, television producer, and film director. She was a member of the Harlem Writers Guild in the late 1950s. She was active in the Civil Rights movement, and served as Northern Coordinator of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Angelou has been highly honored for her body of work, including being awarded over 30...
8 poezii, 0 proze
Carmen Harra
Carmen Harra in her own words: Even as a little girl growing up in Romania, I knew I was different. After a near-death experience at age five, I was able to see things others couldn\'t. Everyone who has had a near-death experience describes the sensation of \"going toward the light.” In this parallel world, extraordinary light energy surrounds you and you see an inexpressibly beautiful light. There is no negativity and no anger or sadness, only love. It is a perfect, glowing world, filled with dazzling insights and pure truth, the way our Creator meant it to be. I\'ve never forgotten the lessons this experience taught me. Why, I wondered, wasn\'t life on Earth like this? This parallel world, which I call the Invisible World, is just as real as the physical world here on Earth. It is even more real because the people there are souls unencumbered by ego, emotions, and attachment to material things. Without these negative distractions, souls exist harmoniously in love, joy, and peace. On...
8 poezii, 0 proze
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...
12 poezii, 0 proze
Hancu George
Inspiration Inspiration Sit down she said, pen me a few lines, tell me of life, love, hopes and dreams. write to me of much happier times When love ruled your heart, and life it seemed Was full of possibilities, plans and endless schemes. I took up the challenge, and began to write, Of life, of love and hopes and dreams, Words flowed like rivers, as I wrote them down, Thinking all the while of the lady I'd found To inspire my thoughts, and urge me on, To make something beautiful, maybe a song. Into the small hours, I toiled away, writing down lines, throwing them away. 'Twas then that I realised, that the happier times That she spoke of and wanted, were not of that time. For the happier times were not from long ago, But were here with me now, and now I know, That 'twas the love for this lady, that made my words flow, And to write something beautiful, for her, her alone. I wrote of life, and my living with her, Of love, her in my arms forever more, Of hopes, a future for us so bright,...
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
WCWendy Cope
Wendy Cope is an award-winning contemporary English poet. She was educated at Farringtons School and read history at St Hilda\'s College, Oxford. She now lives in Winchester with the poet Lachlan Mackinnon. Following her graduation from St Hilda\'s College, Cope spent fifteen years as a primary-school teacher. In 1981 she became Arts and Reviews editor for the Inner London Education Authority magazine- Contact. Five years later she became a freelance writer and was a television critic for The Spectator magazine until 1990. Three books of her poetry have been published (Making Cocoa for Kingsley Amis in 1986, Serious Concerns in 1992 and If I Don\'t Know in 2001), and she has edited several anthologies of comic verse. In 1998 she was voted the listeners\' choice in a BBC Radio 4 poll to succeed Ted Hughes as Poet Laureate. She was a judge of the 2007 Man Booker prize.
6 poezii, 0 proze
IEIoana Veronica Epure
Născută pe 22 iunie 1988, am terminat liceul Traian din Constanța, profil mate-fizică. Studentă la Facultatea de Comunicare și Relații Publice "David Ogilvy" din cadrul SNSPA. Texte publicate în Informația Cernavodei (ziar local cernavodean), Adolescentul (suplimentul cotidianului Cuget Liber), revistele literare Agora și Tomis. Premiul "Tinere Condeie" 2004, 2005. Participare la festivalul Primăvara poeților, 2006. Membră a cenaclurilor literare Săgetătorul și Atlantis. Membră agonia.ro din iulie 2004. "I take a bottle of wine and I go drink it among the flowers. We are allways three ... counting my shadow and my friend, the shimmering moon. Happily, the moon knows nothing of drinking, and my shadow is never thirsty. When I sing, the moon listens to me in silence. When I dance, my shadow dances too. After all festivities the guests must depart. This sadness I do not know. When I go home, the moon goes with me and my shadow follows me." (Vangelis, "The Little Fete")
31 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
Igor Ursenco
CURRICULUM VITAE(Epekeina tes ousias: "beyond the being" Plato)) It's my thirst which concedes that there is water... Irrigated, my soul awakes forth: I'm surviving my nigts,for I taper this body worth... I exceed all my fates.I should figth her wasted battles, anxious to allot penitences of Eva & wagger fleengs of Loth... Who I am? Could she know? Yet I master her thougts - trespassing my bounds - remote... May I be her breath, confined by - rather - things she sais me not..?
2 poezii, 0 proze
JRJalal ad-Dīn Muhammad Rumi
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Balkhī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, and popularly known as Mowlānā but known to the English-speaking world simply as Rumi (30 September 1207 – 17 December 1273), was a 13th-century Persian (Tajik) Muslim poet, jurist, theologian, and Sufi mystic. Rūmī is a descriptive name meaning "the Roman" since he lived most of his life in an area called Rūm because it was once ruled by the Eastern Roman Empire. It is likely that he was born in the village of Wakhsh, a small town located at the river Wakhsh in what is now Tajikistan. Wakhsh belonged to the larger province of Balkh, and in the year Rumi was born, his father was an appointed scholar there. Both these cities were at the time included in the greater Persian cultural sphere of Khorasan, the easternmost province of Persia, and were part of the Khwarezmian Empire. Image of the Rumi on an old book in the Mevlâna museum; Konya,...
0 poezii, 0 proze
Heal The World
de Michael Jackson
There\'s a place in your Heart and I know that is love and this place could be much brighter than tomorrow and if you really try you\'ll find there\'s no need to cry in this place you\'ll feel...
Churchill\'s Grave
de George Gordon Noel Byron
I stood beside the grave of him who blazed The comet of a season, and I saw The humblest of all sepulchres, and gazed With not the less of sorrow and of awe On that neglected turf and quiet stone,...
A rose
de Andrei Tudora
When you’re sad and want to cry I want to help but don’t know why. To make you smile, remove your tears, It’s all I wanted for so many years. But you ignore me all the time, And don’t whant for us to...
Atlas Shrugged
de Ayn Rand
\"Ladies and gentlemen,\" said a voice that came from the radio receiver—a man\'s clear, calm, implacable voice, the kind of voice that had not been heard on the airwaves for years—\"Mr. Thompson...
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...
Alter mann
de Alexandru Red
Ich werf den Stein zu meinem Spass Das Wasser sich im Kreis bewegt Der Alte sieht mich traurig an Und hat es wieder glatt gefegt Im weissen Sand der alte Mann Zitternd seine Pfeife raucht Nur das...
Ash Wednesday
de T.S. Eliot
I Because I do not hope to turn again Because I do not hope Because I do not hope to turn Desiring this man\'s gift and that man\'s scope I no longer strive to strive towards such things (Why should...
Silence
de oana stanescu
I seem to have forgotten that Tomorrow is just another yesterday And that my tears Have already dried out My cry Seems so useless Like begging mercy To a cruel tyrant Who will have his way Anyway And...