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"that sweet wine"3225 rezultate

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Ioan TițianIT

Ioan Tițian

AutorAtelier

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

John KeatsJK

John Keats

AutorClasic

John Keats was born on 31 October 1795 (probably), first child of Thomas Keats and Frances Jennings Keats, who had apparently eloped1. Everything was pretty ordinary for all concerned for a while--the Keatses had three more sons (George and Thomas, plus Edward who died as a baby) and one daughter, Frances, by 1803. That was also the year when John went away to school at Enfield. In 1804, John\'s father was killed in a fall from a horse. Just over two months later, for mysterious reasons, Frances remarried, to a London bank clerk named William Rawlings. Frances quickly decided she\'d made some sort of terrible error and left, taking nothing with her since the laws of the time decreed that all her property and even her children belonged to her husband. Frances\' mother, Alice, swept in and took custody of the children, but she could do nothing about the Swan and Hoop, which Rawlings sold immediately before disappearing. It was around this time that John became prone to fistfights, which...

32 poezii, 0 proze

IC

Iulia Constantinescu

AutorAtelier

nothing that could interest you...

7 poezii, 0 proze

alice drogoreanuAD

alice drogoreanu

AutorAtelier

things that only exist while I'm photographing them m-am născut pe 7 august iubesc lucruri derizorii. de obicei alb-negru. un pod. o apă. cerul liber. cărțile. mirosul de curat. asta poate fi o biografie sau asta http://krasavita.wordpress.com/ http://insunnyty.deviantart.com/ sunt undeva sus

399 poezii, 0 proze

PR

paul rotaru

AutorAtelier

I am That I am nobody son of nobody he who is and he who is not

4 poezii, 0 proze

Ankh JokerAJ

Ankh Joker

AutorAtelier

They tell us that suicide is the greatest piece of cowardice... that suicide is wrong; when it is quite obvious that there is nothing in the world to which every man has a more unassailable title than to his own life and person. Hi

29 poezii, 0 proze

JM

Jim Morrison

AutorClasic

The facts are very simple. So simple that they might mislead you into thinking that the young man whose picture you see on this page is- well, a lot like a lot of other young men. But he isn`t. His full real name is James Douglas Morrison. He was born on December 8, 1943, in Melbourne, Fla.- which is near Cape Kennedy. Jim is six feet tall and has brown hair and haunting blue-grey eyes. After attending Florida State University, he moved to California, where he studied film-making at UCLA. Fortunately, he was side-tracked into the world of music (which had always held great interest for him) and he soon found himself the lead singer of a group called the Doors.

44 poezii, 0 proze

IU

Igor Ursenco

AutorAtelier

CURRICULUM VITAE(Epekeina tes ousias: "beyond the being" Plato)) It's my thirst which concedes that there is water... Irrigated, my soul awakes forth: I'm surviving my nigts,for I taper this body worth... I exceed all my fates.I should figth her wasted battles, anxious to allot penitences of Eva & wagger fleengs of Loth... Who I am? Could she know? Yet I master her thougts - trespassing my bounds - remote... May I be her breath, confined by - rather - things she sais me not..?

2 poezii, 0 proze

I

ionut

AutorAtelier

"When a person is born They cry and the world laugh But let them live such a life That when they die they laugh And the world cries."

10 poezii, 0 proze

HS

Hal Sirowitz

AutorClasic

Pretending We went to Dan Lynch's, & listened to White musicians pretending that they were Black. And the people next to us jumped up & down, pretending that they were rock stars. And I put my hand on your knee, pretending that I was your lover. You remained aloof. Why did you have to be the only one who insisted on being yourself?

0 poezii, 0 proze

I Saw a Chapel

de William Blake

1 I saw a chapel all of gold 2 That none did dare to enter in, 3 And many weeping stood without, 4 Weeping, mourning, worshipping. 5 I saw a serpent rise between 6 The white pillars of the door, 7...

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A Thousand Kisses Deep

de Leonard Cohen

You came to me this morning and you handled me like meat. You\'d have to be a man to know how good that feels, how sweet. My mirrored twin, my next of kin, I\'d know you in my sleep and who but you...

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PARADISE LOST -- Book XII

de John Milton

Book XII As one who in his journey bates at noon, Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored, If Adam aught perhaps might interpose; Then, with...

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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...

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The Afternoon of a Faun

de Stéphane Mallarmé

These nymphs I would perpetuate. So clear Their light carnation, that it floats in the air Heavy with tufted slumbers. Was it a dream I loved? My doubt, a heap of ancient night, is finishing In many...

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Goblin Market

de Christina Rossetti

MORNING and evening Maids heard the goblins cry: \"Come buy our orchard fruits, Come buy, come buy: Apples and quinces, Lemons and oranges, Plump unpecked cherries- Melons and raspberries,...

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The Seafarer

de Ezra Pound

May I for my own self song\'s truth reckon, Journey\'s jargon, how I in harsh days Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast-cares have I abided, Known on my keel many a care\'s hold, And dire sea-surge,...

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mirosiți această femeie

de Adrian Firica

zic, am mirosit-o: ISBN 978-973-126-1 zice Felix Nicolau: \"Pentru că în artă-n mod ciudat, trebuie adesea să pui în valoare ceea ce te caracterizează mai puțin și să domolești ceea ce posezi din...

ArticolAtelier

Proverbs of Hell

de William Blake

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy. Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead. The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid...

PoezieClasic

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...

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