"The Slaves Of Mind" – 11443 rezultate
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PIPhaedrus Caius Iulius
Phaedrus, Gaius Julius (c.15 BC—c. AD 50), Thracian slave who came to Rome and became a freedman in the household of Augustus, the author (in Latin) of a collection of fables in five books containing some hundred stories, published probably in the thirties of the first century AD. There is also an appendix of another thirty-two fables, probably also by Phaedrus. The collection includes fables proper, a number of anecdotes (e.g. about Aesop, Socrates, and Menander), and defences of the author against detractors. The fables are based on those of Aesop and on beast-stories from other sources which had come to be attributed to Aesop. They are written in verse, in iambic senarii (see METRE, LATIN 2), and their object is two-fold, to give advice and to entertain. They are generally serious or satirical, dealing with the injustices of life and social and political evils, but occasionally they are light and amusing. In general they express patient resignation. Phaedrus observed in the...
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PSPublilius Syrus
Scriitor latin, de origine siriană. Autor de mimi (farse), care abundau în maxime morale (sententiae) foarte apreciate atât de contemporanii săi, cât și de posteritate. Engleză Publilius (less correctly Publius) Syrus, a Latin writer of maxims, flourished in the 1st century BC. He was a Syrian who was brought as a slave to Italy, but by his wit and talent he won the favor of his master, who freed and educated him. His mimes, in which he acted himself, had a great success in the provincial towns of Italy and at the games given by Caesar in 46 BC. Publilius was perhaps even more famous as an improviser, and received from Caesar himself the prize in a contest in which he vanquished all his competitors, including the celebrated Decimus Laberius. All that remains of his works is a collection of Sentences (Sententiae), a series of moral maxims in iambic and trochaic verse. This collection must have been made at a very early date, since it was known to Aulus Gellius in the 2nd century AD....
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FCFrançois-René de Chateaubriand
François-René de Chateaubriand (4 septembrie 1768 - 4 iulie 1848) a fost un scriitor francez, politician și diplomat. Este considerat fondatorul romantismului în literatura franceză. Principala sa lucrare este "Geniul creștinismului sau Frumusețea religiei creștine" (1802), publicată ulterior în numeroase ediții. A fost ales membru al Academiei Franceze în 1811 Engleză François-René, vicomte de Chateaubriand(4 September 1768 – 4 July 1848) was a French writer, politician and diplomat. He is considered the founder of Romanticism in French literature. Born in Saint-Malo, the last of ten children, Chateaubriand grew up in his family's castle in Combourg, Brittany. His father, René de Chateaubriand (1718-86), was a former sea captain turned ship owner and slave trader. His mother's maiden name was Apolline de Bedée. Chateaubriand's father was a morose, uncommunicative man and the young Chateaubriand grew up in an atmosphere of gloomy solitude, only broken by long walks in the Breton...
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the crow
un spectru bantuie Europa
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TJThe Rave parties going Jester
nu stiu cum naiba sa scap de contul asta infect
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The Shadow
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BBBen Ber
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Alex Dan
21 de ani,imi place singuratatea,observ si judec, imi place sa ma joc cu realitatea,scriu poezie si proza. Sper sa va placa...
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Matei Alexandru Marian
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Anca Emancipatu
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The Silence before the Storm
de Poison
For me, the silence is a torture. But the storm is bless, a new capture. ‘Because I’m her daughter, she\'s my slave, And we are both so beautiful and brave! We are two savages; two of a kind: She...
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...
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de Craig Burke
Ahh NEVER let the dreaming end and awake to find a way. A way to complete thyself and thy inner meaning. We are servants of the day and slaves of sleep. Lest us cease our complacent resting and...
A lung-full
de Dragos
The drops of rain sparkle ruby and turn to blood falling down my chest, on my face, onto dirt. The same soul that once hated the eerie storm now drops down in the puddle of blood in ecstasy blending...
Heresy
de Dragos Angelescu
We walk this path of beaten stone For ever feeling more alone Under the eyes of gods we march In step, Following a thousand hearts of rithm Slaves of a will We've never been aware of. We march, our...
Ode to Thor
de Andrei Dumitrescu
Rising his hammer once more breaking in his flight the smoothen edge of the eternal femur with a twisted dark love- natural born obscure, With his earth hammer of blood the god of all gods,Thor,...
Men and Trees
de Alice Genes
What do you feel while watching a tiny crippled tree? D’you feel compasion, or d’you ignore that that you see? A choped off tree is just a shattered life That for a moment peered the murderous knife....
Noapte in parc
de Rautoiu Alin
- Boris Trutenov – Pensionar, fost funcționar de stat, îmbrăcat în haine reprezentative pentru secolul trecut. - Punkerul – un punker, căști în urechi, glugă pe cap, totuși cu o siluetă neregulată la...
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...
The Hollow Men
de T.S. Eliot
I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats\'...