"The Meaning" – 11441 rezultate
0.01 secundeMeilisearch
MRMevlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Mawlānā Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Balkhī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muḥammad Rūmī, but known to the English-speaking world simply as Rumi, (30 September 1207 – 17 December 1273), was a 13th-century Persian poet, Islamic jurist, theologian, and 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 Byzantine Empire. According to tradition, Rumi was born in Balkh, Khorasan (now in Afghanistan), the hometown of his father's family. Scholars, however, argue that he was most likely born in 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 historical Persia, and were...
162 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
Radu Contes
The beginning of my childhood was profoundly marked by one of my grandfather’s passions – literature. For him reading, living, the writings of so many did not seem to be enough, so he began writing his own stories that still echo in my memory and in my heart. I remember that one day I went to him and asked “What are you writing about?”. Looking at me for only a second and returning his eyes at the ink stained notebook he answered: “My life”. Regretful, I confess that that was the last dialogue we had. After that I began reading, reading everything he was writing. Two years after his death, I had met someone who changed everything. I stopped reading and began writing myself. It was such a new feeling. It seemed to be never ending. It still feels. Since the first time, you may think I am exaggerating, but it really was the first time I saw her when I felt this sudden urge of writing. Words like “Thank you” seem meaningless compared to the things that you have done for me.
2 poezii, 0 proze
ODOriah Mountain Dreamer
Oriah Mountain Dreamer is the author of the inspirational prose-poem and international best-selling books, The Invitation (now translated into over fifteen languages), The Dance and The Call: Discovering Why You Are Here . Her writing explores how to follow the thread of our deepest heart\'s longing into a life of meaning and purpose. Her latest book, What We Ache For: Creativity and the Unfolding of Your Soul, (Harper San Francisco, April 2005) offers reflections on and practical guidelines for finding and cultivating creative work that is not separated from your spirituality, your direct experience of that which is both what you are and larger than yourself, or your sexuality, the fire and sensuality of life lived in the physical world. Oriah has shared her insights and stories with audiences throughout the world at conferences and retreats and through radio and TV appearances (CBC, TVO, Oprah, NPR, PBS, Wisdom Network.) Blending ruthless honesty, humour, insight and compassion for...
0 poezii, 0 proze
Ian Bavitz
Ian Bavitz, Long Island, New York City, New York, USA. Acquiring his adopted moniker from a movie he had acted in with friends and adding the surname when he began throwing rhymes, Aesop Rock creates hip-hop that is potent and evocative of his home city of New York. He and his production partner Blockhead apparently derive most of their samples from records lifted from the 99 cent bins of local music stores, meaning most of the sounds on his albums are drawn from Italian disco records. The former art student from Boston University built up a strong online fanbase with a number of CD releases, including Music For Earthworms and Appleseed, before making his debut album for the Mush label in 2000 with Float. Drawing on history and mythology to inform his densely constructed soundscapes, Aesop Rock\'s dextrous flow required several listens for the impact of his lyrics to be fully understood and assimilated.
4 poezii, 0 proze
MAMiroslav Antici
Miroslav "Mika" Antiæ (March 14, 1932 – June 24, 1986) was a Serbian poet, journalist and painter. Antiæ was born in Mokrin, Vojvodina, Serbia (then Yugoslavia). He wrote poems, articles, dramas, movie and TV scripts and documentaries. Mika also acted in several movies, and was an amateur painter. His best known poem is "Srem", in which he mourns for dead in World War II and describes the beauty of Srem using "beæarac" song form. He is well known as a bohemian. Mika Antiæ is best known as a children and youth poet, a master of delicate and gentle sentiments. His bohemian, hard-drinking lifestyle is best illustrated by a barely translatable pun about him: "Èika Jova deci, èika Mika Antiæ dva deci" "Èika Jova deci" meaning "Mister Jova to the children", referring to Jovan Jovanoviæ Zmaj, a known children's poet. "Èika Mika Antiæ dva deci" means "Mister Mika Antiæ two deciliters", referring to drinking from a glass, likely of alcohol.
1 poezii, 0 proze
the crow
un spectru bantuie Europa
4 poezii, 0 proze
TJThe Rave parties going Jester
nu stiu cum naiba sa scap de contul asta infect
2 poezii, 0 proze
The Shadow
29 poezii, 0 proze
BBBen Ber
16 poezii, 0 proze
The Poems of Sappho, Part IV
de Sappho
The Poems of Sappho, Part IV 110 H?mitu\'bion stala\'sson. A napkin dripping. From the Scholiast on the Plutus of Aristophanes to show the meaning of h?mitu\'bion. This was a piece of soft linen for...
::exhibition 666::
de Sopov Joana
::exhibition 666:: A new scultpure,in the early morning, arrived beckoning critics, meanings to be derrived a beauitful structure cast in red emitting an inner glow, crimson shed arms out-stretched...
Ghost
de Alin Niculae
\"...and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted Nevermore.\" on a sweet scented summer day with the ashes falling from the sky the ashes he once loved for they...
My withered self
de Nicolae Goje
I feel as nothing I really do I am in sheer panic because there is no life after death because i feel in my flesh that there is not division by zero because my will has withered like a vestigial...
Și umerii mei nuzi rotunjind perseide
de Codrina Verdes
Sorb ceaiul de amiază ceașca repetă pe de rost aromele portocalelor coapte strașnic aburi tridimensionali se unduiesc provocator dănțuind în fața retinei la radio se difuzează show me the meaning of...
PARADISE LOST -- Book VII
de John Milton
Book VII Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine Following, above the Olympian hill I soar, Above the flight of Pegasean wing! The meaning, not the...
letter-thaughts
de petrut marinescu
I was thinking about you last night.About what we\'re talking,about whatwe\'re dreaming,about how our lives are.Some of my thaughts are the same as yours and that makes me feel close to you.Some of...
Þiganul II
de Shalom Ben_Gal
Þiganul II Își pipăie fruntea și o simte arzînd. Piciorul îi este bandajat cu o pînză curată, dar vede că singele a răzbătut prin ea. Ușa se deschide și intră un barbat în vîrstă cu o trusă medicală....
Dreaming reality
de Marlena Culi
My mind plays tricks on you Simplicity in words Free the mind where butterflies The sweet smell of ignorance lies. Words of wisdom Bring no meaning The truth of whom, Who ever grieves by crying?...
Grave stone
de Elif
I passed beyond Death one more time, I passed through the light, Another day that goes by, I have defeated Death once more... But I still haven\'t found you!!! I know my destiny, in its misery, I...