"That Magic Night" – 3224 rezultate
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DWDerek Walcott
Derek Alton Walcott (born January 23, 1930) is a Caribbean poet, playwright, writer and visual artist. Born in Castries, St. Lucia, he won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1992. His work, which developed independently of the schools of magic realism emerging in both South America and Europe at around the time of his birth, is intensely related to the symbolism of myth and its relationship to culture. He is best known for his epic poem Omeros, a reworking of Homeric story and tradition into a journey around the Caribbean and beyond to the American West and London. Walcott founded the Trinidad Theatre Workshop in 1959, which has produced his plays (and others) since that time, and remains active with its Board of Directors. He also founded Boston Playwrights' Theatre at Boston University in 1981 with the hope of creating a home for new plays in Boston, Massachusetts. Walcott retired from teaching poetry and drama in the Creative Writing Department at Boston University in 2007. In fall...
17 poezii, 0 proze
GDGeorges Dor
Georges Dor (March 10, 1931 - July 24, 2001) (born Georges-Henri Dore) was a Québécois author, composer, playwright, singer, poet, translator, and theatrical producer and director. Born in Drummondville, Dor undertook a career in radio as a disk jockey and news director. He worked for Radio-Canada, the national Canadian broadcaster, where he became a director for the Evening News. He wrote poems for many years, but in 1964 he was encouraged by friends to compete in an amateur singing competition. He began singing professionally in early 1965, and released his first album in 1966. One of the songs from this album, his composition "La Manic", whose lyrics were a love letter written by a construction worker on the Manicouagan power project, became the most successful record ever by a Quebec chansonnier. He continued to perform as a singer until 1972, and to record until 1978. After that he worked mainly in the theatre and in television, producing and writing plays and téléromans. He also...
3 poezii, 0 proze
Iulia Constantinescu
nothing that could interest you...
7 poezii, 0 proze
ADalice drogoreanu
things that only exist while I'm photographing them m-am născut pe 7 august iubesc lucruri derizorii. de obicei alb-negru. un pod. o apă. cerul liber. cărțile. mirosul de curat. asta poate fi o biografie sau asta http://krasavita.wordpress.com/ http://insunnyty.deviantart.com/ sunt undeva sus
399 poezii, 0 proze
paul rotaru
I am That I am nobody son of nobody he who is and he who is not
4 poezii, 0 proze
AJAnkh Joker
They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. Hi
29 poezii, 0 proze
Jim Morrison
The facts are very simple. So simple that they might mislead you into thinking that the young man whose picture you see on this page is- well, a lot like a lot of other young men. But he isn`t. His full real name is James Douglas Morrison. He was born on December 8, 1943, in Melbourne, Fla.- which is near Cape Kennedy. Jim is six feet tall and has brown hair and haunting blue-grey eyes. After attending Florida State University, he moved to California, where he studied film-making at UCLA. Fortunately, he was side-tracked into the world of music (which had always held great interest for him) and he soon found himself the lead singer of a group called the Doors.
44 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
ionut
"When a person is born They cry and the world laugh But let them live such a life That when they die they laugh And the world cries."
10 poezii, 0 proze
Hal Sirowitz
Pretending We went to Dan Lynch's, & listened to White musicians pretending that they were Black. And the people next to us jumped up & down, pretending that they were rock stars. And I put my hand on your knee, pretending that I was your lover. You remained aloof. Why did you have to be the only one who insisted on being yourself?
0 poezii, 0 proze
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 magic in our words
de Andrei Dumitrescu
The magic in our words sells us to our stories tonight, As the sharpest swords share destinies untold by the dripping blood, hanging by the edge of the dark blades deceiving timeless snakes Wild and...
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...
Laura
de Paul Valéry
Since dawn she has been with me, Laura, alone in a private sphere. Solitude I name this closed system where all things are alive. At this first hour I bank neither with my days nor with my nights,...
Loted love-cantec,de fapt!
de Alina13
LOSTED LOVE It\'s a magic life, It\'s a burnin night And you are right! All is so magic But is so tragic... Why?In my mind is isolatinon since you go away... Teel me where is the fantastic,yeah?...
lossss
de Alina13
LOSTED LOVE It\'s a magic life, It\'s a burnin night And you are right! All is so magic But is so tragic... Why?In my mind is isolatinon since you go away... Teel me where is the fantastic,yeah?...
mIRC dream
de Coana Loenida
I stumbled onto you, half by mistake, trying to elude the hounds who have no discretion or taste. You were a polite voice, in a world of ramble, A gentleman searching for more than the tepid...
Why
de Emma
Why is it life so dear to us? Why is it pure,magic and thus Sparkling,hidden under mists of grass, On the ground of sky Lightened by the faithful moonly rye. However absurd this definition seems This...
Envoi
de Ezra Pound
Go, dumb-born book, Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes: Hadst thou but song As thou hast subjects known, Then were there cause in thee that should condone Even my faults that heavy upon me...
Let us dream...
de G.Grace
And I want the rain to fall on me Cold...friendly and free... I want my thin wings made of wind Oh,let the rain to fall on me! I want the magic to step in To twist the world and us within... The love...