"it seemed that" – 4372 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
Hancu George
Inspiration Inspiration Sit down she said, pen me a few lines, tell me of life, love, hopes and dreams. write to me of much happier times When love ruled your heart, and life it seemed Was full of possibilities, plans and endless schemes. I took up the challenge, and began to write, Of life, of love and hopes and dreams, Words flowed like rivers, as I wrote them down, Thinking all the while of the lady I'd found To inspire my thoughts, and urge me on, To make something beautiful, maybe a song. Into the small hours, I toiled away, writing down lines, throwing them away. 'Twas then that I realised, that the happier times That she spoke of and wanted, were not of that time. For the happier times were not from long ago, But were here with me now, and now I know, That 'twas the love for this lady, that made my words flow, And to write something beautiful, for her, her alone. I wrote of life, and my living with her, Of love, her in my arms forever more, Of hopes, a future for us so bright,...
2 poezii, 0 proze
ITIoan 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
GHGerard Manley Hopkins
Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J. (28 July 1844 – 8 June 1889), was an English poet, Roman Catholic convert, and Jesuit priest, whose 20th-century fame established him posthumously among the leading Victorian poets. His experimental explorations in prosody (especially sprung rhythm) and his use of imagery established him as a daring innovator in a period of largely traditional verse. He was educated at Highgate School and then Balliol College, Oxford, where he studied classics. Hopkins was an unusually sensitive student and poet, as witnessed by his class-notes and early poetic pieces. It was at Oxford that he forged a friendship with Robert Bridges (eventual Poet Laureate of England) which would be of importance in his development as a poet, and his posthumous acclaim. Hopkins began his time in Oxford as a keen socialite and prolific poet, but he seemed to have alarmed himself with the changes in his behaviour that resulted, and he became more studious and began recording his sins in his...
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DMdoes it really matter
"N-am altă Ană/ Mă zidesc pe mine" Ana Blandiana
33 poezii, 0 proze
MRMarius Rădulescu
PUBLISHED WORKS In anthologies: *The Buds of the Baragan, poetry, 1970 *The Taste of Roses, poetry, 1979 *Water Circles, poetry, 2002 *Faces in Bronze(vol.II), 2005 Coauthored: *Boutros Boutros- Ghali and Romania, political analysis, 1996 *A Laurel Leaf, biography, bilingual edition(Romanian- English), 1996 *13 - Sad Reality, poetry, bilingual edition(Romanian- French), 1998 Personal: *Accents, poetry, 1996 *The Analysis of the Soul, poetry, 2000 *Bucegi 2000, prose, 2000 *The Imperfect Past, poetry, bilingual edition (Romanian- French), 2000 *Appeal to Memory, poetry, CD release, 2003
341 poezii, 0 proze
OOtilia
It's personal.
3 poezii, 0 proze
Don Miguel de Cervantes y Saavedra
It is not known for certain the exact date of his birth, but since according to Spanish tradition the Christening was carried through very closely after the birth, there is no doubt that his birthday was in 1547. The actual date of the Christening was October 9th, 1547 at the city of Alcala de Henares. Since then, little is known of his childhood, other than he lived with his family in Valladolid, Madrid, and other Andalusian cities. Finally, they settled in Madrid, and afterwards, he became the attendant to the Cardinal Acquaviva in Italy in 1569 . Later on, Cervantes enlisted in to armed forces for the naval Battle of Lepanto (it took place on the 7th of December of 1571) where he was injured. This meant the handicap of his left hand, but he still continued as a soldier, on his voyage returning to Spain 1575 in the galley Sun, he fell prisoner of the Turks when it was over powered. The next five years, Cervantes is a prisoner of war in Algiers, from where he tried to escape four...
1 poezii, 0 proze
ANandra n
"it looks i've reached the crossroad.. remains of what i am still still waiting on the sidewalk to fill this peaceful day the burden of a choice my past dissolved..erased would you belive my world?"
1 poezii, 0 proze
MLMina Loa
"It Suits the Poets Purpose" by RAY REESE writers would have us believe in popular mythology that women are enamored with men of power mock gladiator bluster Portofolio's Corporate corpulent physique when in fact most of the women worth the having are with men who are good with words...
4 poezii, 0 proze
logical song
de Andrei Badea
„When I was young, it seemed that life was so wonderful, a miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical.” Îmi amintesc, uneori, locul de unde am plecat. Asta se întâmplă în special vara, când mă întâlnesc...
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain
de Emily Dickinson
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading--treading--till it seemed That Sense was breaking through-- And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum-- Kept...
Am simțit o Înmormîntare În Creier
de Emily Dickinson
Am simțit o Înmormîntare în Creier, Bocitoare se jeleau neîncetat Umblînd - de colo colo - pînă cînd Și Judecata mi-au întunecat Iar cînd s-au potolit cu toate, O Slujbă ca o Tobă s-a pornit - Bătînd...
Athanasia
de Oscar Wilde
To that gaunt House of Art which lacks for naught Of all the great things men have saved from Time, The withered body of a girl was brought Dead ere the world\'s glad youth had touched its prime, And...
The Mountain
de Robert Frost
The mountain held the town as in a shadow. I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed that I missed stars in the west, Where its black body cut into the sky. Near me it seemed: I felt it like...
Dracula
de Bram Stoker
Chapter 16 - Dr. Seward\'s Diary It was just a quarter before twelve o\'clock when we got into the churchyard over the low wall. The night was dark, with occasional gleams of moonlight between the...
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
de Samuel Taylor Coleridge
PART THE FIRST. It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. “By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?” “The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide, And I am...
My Butterfly
de Robert Frost
Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too, And the daft sun-assaulter, he That frighted thee so oft, is fled or dead: Save only me (Nor is it sad to thee!) Save only me There is none left to mourn...
PARADISE LOST -- Book V
de John Milton
Book V Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl, When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred, And temperate...
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...