"Roots, The fulcrum, Part 1" – 123 rezultate
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RDRobert Duncan
Robert Duncan (January 7, 1919 – February 3, 1988) was an American poet and a student of H.D. and the Western esoteric tradition who spent most of his career in and around San Francisco. Though associated with any number of literary traditions and schools, Duncan is often identified with the New American Poetry and Black Mountain poets. Duncan's mature work emerged in the 1950s from within the literary context of Beat culture and today he is also identified as a key figure in the San Francisco Renaissance. During the 1960s, Duncan achieved considerable artistic and critical success with three books; The Opening of the Field (1960), Roots and Branches (1964), and Bending the Bow (1968). These are generally considered to be his most significant works. His poetry is modernist in its preference for the impersonal, mythic, and hieratic, but Romantic in its privileging of the organic, the irrational and primordial, the not-yet-articulate blindly making its way into language like salmon...
1 poezii, 0 proze
James Alan Hetfield
James Hetfield In Brief: James Alan Hetfield Born: August 3, 1963 From: Los Angeles, California Personal: Married, 2 Children Specialty: Angst-ridden, soul-rending, growling, loud-ass vocals Instrument: vocals, guitars Vitals: blue eyes, blonde hair, 6\'1\"/1.85 meters tall, weighs 180 lbs/81.65 kilos Hetfield was born to a truck driver and light opera singer on August 3rd, 1963, in Los Angeles. His family\'s Christian Science religious beliefs are often mentioned as the root of James\' \"tortured soul\" lyrics. Musically, he began at age 9 with piano lessons, then banging away on his brother David\'s drums and finally to guitar. With his guitar in hand, James aspired to become a rock star in his first band, Obsession. The band was made up of the Veloz brothers on bass and drums and Jim Arnold on guitar. A pair of friends, Ron McGovney and Dave Marrs, acted as the band\'s roadies. This meant sitting in the loft of the Veloz garage running a control panel for makeshift lighting...
4 poezii, 0 proze
ȘSȘtefan Stoenescu
Ștefan Stoenescu (n. 30 ianuarie 1936, București) este un filolog, eseist și traducător (din și în limba engleză) american, originar din România. Absolvent al Facultății de filologie română și engleză (catedra de limba și literatură engleză), Universitatea București (1962) (și ulterior al cursului de masterat în literatură comparată, Universitatea Cornell, SUA, 1990), a fost cadru universitar la Universitatea din București, Facultatea de Limbi Străine (1964-1987), până la cererea de azil politic în septembrie 1987 în SUA. Membru titular al Uniunii Scriitorilor din România (1978); Membru titular al Academiei Americano-Române de Stiințe și Arte (ARA) (1998) Membru în comitetul editorial al revistei "Origini/Romanian Roots" (1997), Norcross, Georgia, SUA Membru al comitetului editorial al anuarului "Caiete Internaționale de Poezie" (2000), Norcross Georgia, SUA
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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 Axe Helve
de Robert Frost
I\'ve known ere now an interfering branch Of alder catch my lifted axe behind me. But that was in the woods, to hold my hand From striking at another alder\'s roots, And that was, as I say, an alder...
It was a time of triumph for the morons
de Alexandru Paleologu
Mr. Paleologu, to begin with, let us say that this talk is the result of certain hostile attitudes, especially in the Western media, concerning Mircea Eliade and what we call here “Generation ’27”. I...
The Little Mermaid
de Radu Herinean
The Little Mermaid - - - - by Hans Christian Andersen Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, cornflower, and as clear as the purest glass. But it is very deep...
The Grey Monk
de William Blake
`I die, I die!\' the Mother said, `My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless tyrant said?\' The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk\'s side, His...
Simpozionul internațional despre avangardă: București-Zurich-Paris-Tel Aviv: Romanian and Jewish Avant-gardists in the Romanian Cultural Milieu; București, 26-27 mai
de marlena braester
Ca urmare a succesului simpozionului \"Avangarda românească între București, Paris și Tel Aviv\" care a avut loc la Tel Aviv în luna decembrie 2010 (www.agonia.ro/index.php/press/13963144/simpozionul_...
Love poem
de Ana
We made love last night beneath the stars. The moon Cyclopetic eye unblinking staring us down uncovering our bodies of the darkness like naked roots we tangled ourselves thighs and elbows heavy fruit...
WALKING IN LIGHT
de Floriana Pachia
I first halted on the riverbank staring before and behind at the myriad signs sprung like grass blades along the walks of life I left behind a harbor a sunny seashore and people up and about renting...
Pseudosonet englez
de Cristian Vasiliu
When seeds of madness start to grow And spread their roots into my soul It’s you that make my faults to rest Into the treasure of my chest …And then I rise on lips a cry Because my very core is thy;...
Goblin Market
de Christina Rossetti
MORNING and evening Maids heard the goblins cry: \"Come buy our orchard fruits, Come buy, come buy: Apples and quinces, Lemons and oranges, Plump unpecked cherries- Melons and raspberries,...
Spring Pools
de Robert Frost
These pools that, though in forests, still reflect The total sky almost without defect, And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver, Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone, And yet not...
Neconcordanțe
de diana weisz
I (sau trei care înseamnă tot primul și poate și ultimul uneori când am ghinion) _______________________________________________ Days of thunder marching through the shades of blue Bastard din coji...
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...
hunting
de Acsy Mark
Where did my inspiration go when I could fly and had a flow? Why did my inspiration fade... cut from it\'s roots by s strange blade? Like diamonds sparkled then my eyes untamed then by the “what...
Carpe Noctem
de Aldous Leonard Huxley
There is no future, there is no more past, No roots nor fruits, but momentary flowers. Lie still, only lie still and night will last, Silent and dark, not for a space of hours, But everlastingly. Let...
Amintiri
de Maria Prochipiuc
Într-un colț de cer Rădăcinile eternității Iși sapă secunda în taină. Iluzie clădită Pe-un strop de moarte! Culoarea vântului Trist Scrie silabele iubirii... Eu sunt, Tu ești ... a nu mai fi!...
Proverbs of Hell
de William Blake
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy. Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead. The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid...