"Red moon desert" – 1047 rezultate
0.02 secundeMeilisearchAlexandru Red
33 poezii, 0 proze
Gabriel Munteanu
15 poezii, 0 proze
Narcisa
sunt \"nebuna\", imi place ploaia, muzica rock si scriu poezii.
1 poezii, 0 proze
Rizoiu Vlad
4 poezii, 0 proze
garpini anastasia
2 poezii, 0 proze
Oltean Bianca Larisa
Sunt o iubitoare de arta:sculptura,pictura,pictez tablouri si portrete,scriu poezii si proza.recent am inceput un roman.sper sa va placa daca ajungeti sa-l cititi.mai multe despre mine deduceti din textele mele.
1 poezii, 0 proze
Radu
1 poezii, 0 proze
baghiu vlad
19 Ani... Cu chef de viata si fara obligati. Poezia e pentru mine singura arma ce are posibilitatea sa loveasca sau sa aline si sa incalzeasca suflete.
4 poezii, 0 proze
Viorea
Deoarece lunea aceasta pica intr-o marti din ziua de miercuri, intalnirea noastra saptamanala de joi va avea loc vineri, sambata aceasta, pentru ca duminica e zi libera. (Red Skelton)
34 poezii, 0 proze
Stephen Crane
Stephen Crane (1871-1900), American author, whose second novel, The Red Badge Of Courage (1895), brought him international fame. The Red Badge of Courage depicted the American Civil War from the point of view of an ordinary soldier. It has been called the first modern war novel. Crane was born in Newark, New Jersey, on November1, 1871, as the 14th child of a Methodist minister. He started to write stories at the age of eight and at 16 he was writing articles for the New York Tribune. Crane studied at Lafayette College and Syracuse University. After his mother's death in 1890 - his father had died earlier - Crane moved to New York, where he lived a bohemian life, and worked as a free-lance writer and journalist. While supporting himself by his writings, he lived among the poor in the Bowery slums to research his first novel. Crane's first novel, Maggie: A Girl Of The Streets(1893) was a milestone in the development of literary naturalism. Crane had to print the book at his own expense,...
11 poezii, 0 proze
Red moon desert
de Adriana Camelia Silvia Popp
până la sfârșit nopțile acuzând pripeala la grămadă, chinezării - sacrificii estetice luate-n răspăr: două fantasme aproape de desăvârșire circumscriind absolutismul ceasornicelor cu arc, despre rău...
Insomniac
de Sylvia Plath
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole --- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things. Under the...
While the moon…
de Ileana Ioan
While the red moon started waxing I was laying on thy bed; Shadows of the night were dancing Round the candles by your bed. And as time was passing slowly Weariness grew in my head. In his arms I...
replica(la Wolf Moon)
de andreea musat
Burnt leavs perfume /and woods green mists The eco breaks in screams You caught me under the red moon Your hair is darkness, Deepness, Smoky green eyes They shine but not alive they seem YOUR ODOUR...
If you forget me
de Pablo Neruda
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body...
Where is my mind?
de Miruna Gavriliu
I won’t make you pancakes, I won’t buy Nutella for you It’s been a day of flying carpets and weather balloons across the skies of a black moon There is no morning and no night inside that cupboard...
The Sphinx
de Oscar Wilde
In a dim corner of my room for longer than my fancy thinks A beautiful and silent Sphinx has watched me through the shifting gloom. Inviolate and immobile she does not rise she does not stir For...
Scrisoarea IV - vers Engleza
de Mihai Eminescu
See the tall and lonely castle mirrored in the placid lake, \'Neath those waters does its shadow through the ages never wake, Silently above the pine-tress rise its ancient rampart stark, Throwing...
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
de Samuel Taylor Coleridge
PART THE FIRST. It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. “By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?” “The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide, And I am...
Christabel
de Samuel Taylor Coleridge
PART I \'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock, And the owls have awakened the crowing cock ; Tu--whit !-- -- Tu--whoo ! And hark, again ! the crowing cock, How drowsily it crew. Sir Leoline,...
