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I was born in Cluj-Napoca on the 11th of September 1970. I have learned to read, write and love over there. In 1991 I moved to Brisbane, Australia. I hold a bachelor degree in International Business. Later on I followed a couple of courses in Psychology. I mainly write in Romanian, that's what makes me feel closer to the places I left. However I do write in English, sometimes it feels like the words find me better this way, or maybe it's the other way around. I read many English books, biographies, poetry, etc.

19 poezii, 0 proze

silviu vasile

Attopoet Jurist, inginer si scriitor. The greatest weapon anyone can use against us is our own mind. By preying on the doubts and uncertainties that already lurk there. Are we true to to ourselves? Or do we live for the expectations of others? And if we are open and honest, can we ever truly be loved? Can we find the courage to release our deepest secrets, or in the end are we all unknowable... even to ourselves.

27 poezii, 0 proze

Ioan Tițian

Prenume: Ioan Nume: Tițian email: maa_eendo@yahoo.com Photo: by Me ... 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? 3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? 4 Or Love in a golden bowl? (by W. Blake) ... I ne'er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale, a deadly pale. My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked what could I ail My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away. The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start. They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice Is love's bed always snow She seemed to hear my silent voice Not love appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling place And can...

6 poezii, 0 proze

Iñigo López de Mendoza

Don Íñigo López de Mendoza y de la Vega, Marquis of Santillana (August 19, 1398 - March 25, 1458) was a Castilian poet who held an important position in society and Literature during the reign of John II of Castile. He was born at Carrión de los Condes in Old Castile to a noble family which figured prominently in the arts. His grandfather, Pedro González de Mendoza, and his father, Diego Hurtado de Mendoza Admiral of Castile, were both poets with close ties to the great literary figures of the time: Chancellor Lopez de Ayala, Fernán Pérez de Guzmán and Gomez Manrique. His mother, Doña Leonor de la Vega, was a wealthy heiress belonging to the House of de la Vega. Lopez de Mendoza's father died when he was five years old, which brought his family into financial difficulties. Part of his childhood was spent living in his grandmother's household, and in the home of his uncle, the future Archbishop of Toledo. As a youth, he spent time in the court king Alfonso V of Aragón, where...

1 poezii, 0 proze

marin anton adrian

profesor de filosofie,vanez un doctorat despre Vasile Lovinescu si alti perennialisti,sunt prea frumos pentru orasul care ma tine captiv, de aproape doua decenii ma perfectionez in jeet kune do, escrima si alte "lucruri" martiale, si tot nu am inteles cum am fost sedus de acest "obiect" ideal cunoscut ca Poezie...

1 poezii, 0 proze

Taneda Santôka

Taneda Santōka, birth name: Taneda Shōichi; 3 December 1882 - 11 October 1940) was the pen-name of a Japanese author and haiku poet. He is known for his free verse haiku. Santoka, an ordained Zen priest, after spending most of his life wandering all over the country as a begging monk, chose to settle in Matsuyama only to die 10 months later. The humble cottage where he dwelt -- Isso-an (A Blade of Grass Hermitage) is preserved north of Ehime University. His books and documents are also preserved in Shiki Memorial Museum. "In February of 1929 I received ordination as a monk and became resident priest at Mitori Kannon-do in the countryside of Kumamoto Prefecture. It was truly a solitary forest life (sanrin dokuju); as for quietness it was quiet, as for loneliness it was lonely -- such a life it was." (Taneda Santoka - from "Sômokutô") The Zen he was ultimately to practice, however, though traditional, was unusual. It was the Zen of solitary walking. The open road was to become...

2 poezii, 0 proze

Adam Zagajewski

Adam Zagajewski (b. 21 June 1945 in Lwów, Soviet Union (now Lviv, Ukraine)) is a Polish poet, novelist, and essayist. Subsequently lyrical on meta-physical and cultural problems. He had lived in Paris since 1982. In 2002 he has moved to Kraków. His poem Try To Praise The Mutilated World, printed in The New Yorker, became famous after 9/11. He currently is a faculty member on the University of Chicago's Committee on Social Thought, and teaches two classes, one on fellow Polish poet Czes³aw Mi³osz. Poetry Tremor (1985) Canvas (1991) Mysticism for Beginners (1997) Without End: New and Selected Poems (2002) Eternal Enemies: Poems (2008) Essays Solidarity, Solitude (1990) Two Cities (1995) Poetry Komunikat. Kraków, 1972. Sklepy miêsne. Kraków, 1975. List. Oda do wieloœci. Pairs, 1983. Jechaæ do Lwowa. London, 1985. P³ótno. Paris, 1990. Ziemia ognista. Poznañ, 1994. Trzej anio³owie. Kraków, 1998. Pragnienie. Kraków, 1999. Powrót. Kraków, 2003. Anteny. Kraków 2005 Another Beauty (2000) Prose...

4 poezii, 0 proze

Do

9 poezii, 0 proze

Ahn Do-hyun

Poet sud-coreean. Născut în 1961 la Yech’on, provincia Gyeongsang. Absolvent al secției de Limba și Literatura Coreeană a Universității Won-Gwang din Iksan. Profesor. Debutează cu un grupaj de poezii în 1981. Obține numeroase premii literare. Volume de poezie și proză: Autodafe; Vreau să vin la tine; Chon Pong-jun pe drumul către Seul; Salmon; Legături de dragoste, Un om etc.

1 poezii, 0 proze

Blood red love

de Ileana Ioan

I wish that I could eat your heart But only for to be inside it; To nourish you from my own blood; To keep your life from dying… I wish I could become a part Of your desire and your soul; To be a...

Sonnet XXVI

de William Shakespeare

Lord of my love, to whom in vassalage Thy merit hath my duty strongly knit, To thee I send this written embassage, To witness duty, not to show my wit: Duty so great, which wit so poor as mine May...

no way, never

de blue

no way, nowhere, never, you would find a love with no name more than one time. no way, never, never, I forgot you, I don’t lie when I say that I do love you. no way, nowhere, never, you can...

symptom zero

de Sara Nagy

ne plimbăm pe străzile cu plămâni dezgoliți uneori suntem singuri mâncăm vată de zahăr și iaurt cu fructe traversăm culorile îngropate câteodată când așteptâm la semafor cineva strigă în urma noastră...

amintiri despre moarte, iubire și devenire

de Mondea Adrian

Cronica unei conștiințe (aproape) postumane Astăzi, 11 februarie 2025, m-am trezit cu o întrebare spulberându-mi liniștea dimineții / cum coexistă ideea de moarte, iubire și devenire într-o lume care...

ArticolAtelier

I do not love you except because I love you

de Pablo Neruda

I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you My heart moves from cold to fire. I love you only because it\'s you the one I...

O Do Not Love Too Long

de William Butler Yeats

SWEETHEART, do not love too long: I loved long and long, And grew to be out of fashion Like an old song. All through the years of our youth Neither could have known Their own thought from the...

I say there i love you-cantec

de Alina13

I SAY THAT I LOVE YOU YOU SHELTER OF ME WITH YOUR ARMS I SAY THAT I LOVE YOU WITH MY EYES WHAT YOU WANT ABOUT ME? I\'M SO SIGHTLESS,I CAN\'T TO SEE BUT I KNOW:THE TIME IS GO AND NOW YES,I SCREAM THIS...

Atelier

Love a woman

de Florin DeRoxas

love a woman for being woman, love a woman for being smart, and if you know you love a woman show you love her from your heart. love a woman for being childish, try to really understand, the woman...

The Passionate Pilgrim

de William Shakespeare

I. WHEN my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor\'d youth, Unskilful in the world\'s false forgeries. Thus vainly...