"The last cup of coffee" – 11441 rezultate
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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
NTNovica Tadiæ
Novica Tadiæ was born in 1949 and has lived most of his life in Belgrade. The author of fourteen previous collections of poetry, including The Object of Ridicule, Monster, and The Unknown, he is the most-respected living Serbian poet. Tadiæ has won almost every major Serbian literary award, including the prestigious Laureat Nagrade. In the last two decades, he has served as editor of several Serbian literary magazines. Tadiæ's books of poems have been translated into more than two dozen languages.
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AAmara
"Poet divin, lumina fara moarte m-ajute-n grai iubirea-n veci fierbinte cu care pururi ti-am citit din carte" Infernul - Dante Alighieri This is me for forever One of the lost ones The one without a name Without an honest heart as compass This is me for forever One without a name These lines the last endeavor To find the missing lifeline Nemo - Nightwish Last dance, first kiss Your touch my bliss Beauty always comes with dark thoughts I wish... Wish I had an Angel - Nightwish
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RVRenée Vivien
Renée Vivien, born Pauline Mary Tarn (11 June 1877 - 18 November 1909) was a British poet who wrote in the French language.[1][2] She took to heart all the mannerisms of Symbolism, as one of the last poets to claim allegiance to the school. Her compositions include sonnets, hendecasyllabic verse, and prose poetry. Vivien was born in London, England to a wealthy British father and an American mother from Jackson, Michigan. She grew up in Paris and London. Upon inheriting her father's fortune at 21, she emigrated permanently to France. In Paris, Vivien's dress and lifestyle were as notorious among the bohemian set as was her verse. She lived lavishly, as an open lesbian, and carried on a well-known affair with American heiress and writer Natalie Clifford Barney. She also harbored a lifelong obsession with her closest childhood friend and neighbor, Violet Shillito – a relationship that remained unconsummated. In 1900 Vivien abandoned this chaste love, when the great romance with Natalie...
17 poezii, 0 proze
KIKeiko Imaoka
Beginner\'s Mind (Keiko Imaoka - Tucson, Arizona) I cannot be sure when I first became aware of haiku and tanka in my childhood in Japan. They seemed to have existed for a long time in the perimeter of my awareness, undifferentiated from proverbs, mottoes, aphorisms, and song lyrics that were phrased in similar forms. Sometime during my grade school years, \"Ogura Hyakunin-Isshu\" (\"Ogura Collection of One Hundred Tanka\", edited by Teika Fujiwara around 1235) became known to me as a New Year\'s card game, in which players compete to capture shimonoku cards (100 cards on each of which the last half of a verse is printed, spread out on the floor in front of the players) that finish the verses being read aloud. At abacus school, where we played this game at every new year\'s party, my prowess in the game improved dramatically when I was in the sixth grade, after I had memorized all the poems with my tenth-grade sister who was required to do so in her archaic grammar course in school. I...
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Duca Horia
So why did I do it? I could offer a million answers, all false. The truth is that I'm a bad person, but that's gonna change. I'm going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. I'm cleaning up and I'm moving on. Going straight and choosing life. I'm looking forward to it already. I'm going to be just like you. The job, the family, the fucking big television, the washing machine, the car, the compact disc, and electrical tin opener, good health, low cholesterol, dental insurance, mortgage, starter home, leisurewear, luggage, three-piece suite, D.I.Y., game shows, junk food, children, walks in the park, 9:00 to 5:00, good at golf, washing the car,choice of sweaters, family Christmas, indexed pension, tax exemption, clearing gutters, getting by,looking ahead to the day you die.
1 poezii, 0 proze
JFJames Elroy Flecker
James Elroy Flecker (5 November 1884 - 3 January 1915) was an English poet, novelist and playwright. As a poet he was most influenced by the Parnassian poets. He was born in London, and baptised Herman Elroy Flecker, later choosing to use the first name "James", either because he disliked the name "Herman" or to avoid confusion with his father. "Roy", as he was known to his family, was educated at Dean Close School, Cheltenham, where his father was headmaster, and Uppingham School. He studied at Trinity College, Oxford, and Caius College, Cambridge. While at Oxford he was greatly influenced by the last flowering of the Aesthetic movement there, under John Addington Symonds. From 1910 he was in the consular service, in the Eastern Mediterranean. He met Helle Skiadaressi on a ship to Athens, and married her in 1911. His most widely known poem is "To a poet a thousand years hence". The most enduring testimony to his work is perhaps an excerpt from "The Golden Journey to Samarkand"...
1 poezii, 0 proze
WJWilliam Wymark Jacobs
William Wymark Jacobs (8 September 1863 – 1 September 1943), was an English author of short stories and novels. He is now best remembered for his macabre tales "The Monkey's Paw" (published 1902 in the collection of short stories The Lady of the Barge) and "The Toll House" (published 1909 in the collection of short stories Sailors' Knots). However the majority of his output was humorous in tone. His favourite subjects were marine life: "men who go down to the sea in ships of moderate tonnage" said Punch, reviewing his first collection of stories, Many Cargoes, which achieved great popular success on its publication in 1896. Many Cargoes was followed by the novel The Skipper's Wooing in 1897, and another collection of short stories, Sea Urchins (1898) set the seal on his popularity. Among his other titles are Captains All, Sailors' Knots, and Night Watches. The title of the last reflects the popularity of perhaps his most enduring character: the night-watchman on the wharf in Wapping,...
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Thomas Moore
Thomas Moore (1779-1852) Irish poet, friend of Lord Byron and P.B. Shelley. Moore\'s writings range from lyric to satire, from prose romance to history and biography. His popular IRISH MELODIES appeared in ten parts between 1807 and 1835. Moore was a good musician and skillful writer of songs, which he set to Irish tunes, mainly of the 18th century. \'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone. (from \'The Last Rose of Summer\') } Thomas Moore was born in Dublin as the son of a grocer. His background was poor and he never varnished it. In his poem \'Epitaph on a Tuft-Hunter\' he mocked snobbery: \"Heaven grant him now some noble nook / For, rest his soul! he\'d rather be / Genteelly damn\'d beside a Duke, / Than sav\'d in vulgar company.\" Moore studied at Trinity College, Dublin and London, and published his first book, THE POETICAL WORKS OF THOMAS LITTLE, in 1801. He became in 1803 a civil officer to Bermuda, where he stayed for a...
2 poezii, 0 proze
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...
2 poezii, 0 proze
BLUE
de cristina boruga
One day a butterfly set on my nose and sais: I want you to speak about blue as if this is the last time a minute has 60 seconds. Well, I know blue is the colour of my coffee cup in the morning. I...
Miracles
de Coana Loenida
It really is a matter of perspective. The morning air is still dim and cool the birds I can hear almost seem to be whispering about something that has yet to happen, and if it does they will sing and...
zarathustra
de Friedrich Nietzsche
1891 THUS SPAKE ZARATHUSTRA by Friedrich Nietzsche translated by Thomas Common PROLOGUE Zarathustra\'s Prologue 1. WHEN Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home,...
Selected strophes from Les Chants de Maldoror Translated by Dan Clore
de Comte de Lautreamont
Canto I: 6 You should let your fingernails grow for fifteen days. Oh! -- How sweet it is to brutally tear a youth with a hairless upper lip from his bed and, eyes wide open, pretend that you\'ll...
I was looking for love...
de blue
( after Costache Ioanid) I was looking for love, like for a lost town, Like for a singing heaven in a world of pain, I rushed into life and all that liked my eye, And I only suffered; but heaven was...
no tiesto for old churchill
de emilian valeriu pal
nu mai țin minte decît miriștea arzînd în noapte. din depărtare flăcările mi se păreau docurile luminate din dover mirosea a pămînt copt îmi imaginam că-l rostogolesc în palme ca pe un cartof...
Haiku și tanka
de Marian Nicolae TOMI
* ceaiul dă în foc - the tea is boiling - cu ochii pierduți pe câmp the eyes lost on the field închizând geamul closing the window * privind un lemn uscat – looking at a dry log - înflorind fără...
cafea
de Ohm
the fragrant pungent aroma fills the air zig zagging moisture scents like a hikers trail tracing the path back to the pot of black gold pouring the umber fluid into my china cup nostrils are drenched...
Prostia mea sau Manifest împotriva voastră
de Doru Alexandru
De ce prostia mea? Pentru ca mă las influențat de voi… Pentru ca voi… cei atât de orbi in a-mi înțelege cuvintele nu știți sa citiți, pentru ca pe voi încerc eu sa va înduplec prin ceea ce scriu. De...
Adu-mi apusul de soare-ntr-o cupă
de Emily Dickinson
Adu-mi apusul de soare-ntr-o cupă, Socoate cănile din zori - și după Să-mi spui cu Rouă câte-s pline, Și dimineața cît se-ntinde - Cînd doarme țesătoarea - cine Mai țese pînzele senine! Și scrie-mi...