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Born to middle class parents in Jamaica Plain, Massachusetts, Sylvia Plath published her first poem when she was eight. Sensitive, intelligent, compelled toward perfection in everything she attempted, she was, on the surface, a model daughter, popular in school, earning straight A\'s, winning the best prizes. By the time she entered Smith College on a scholarship in 1950 she already had an impressive list of publications, and while at Smith she wrote over four hundred poems. Sylvia\'s surface perfection was however underlain by grave personal discontinuities, some of which doubtless had their origin in the death of her father (he was a college professor and an expert on bees) when she was eight. During the summer following her junior year at Smith, having returned from a stay in New York City where she had been a student ``guest editor\'\' at Mademoiselle Magazine, Sylvia nearly succeeded in killing herself by swallowing sleeping pills. She later described this experience in an...

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Helena Schmetterling

Despre mine stiu sigur ca mi-ar fi placut sa fiu o printesa medievala. Sau sa ma plimb cu Stanescu mana in mana prin Union Square, sa-mi povesteasca despre cercuri si despre iertari. Despre ceilalti oameni stiu doar ca cel mai mult ma enerveaza momentele in care ma trateaza ca pe o femeie obisnuita. Sau acelea in care se pierd in jumatati de gesturi. In proiecte de vise netraite niciodata pana la capat. Cel mai des ma indragostesc iremediabil de aceia care valseaza in voie si dupa bunul plac pe portativ si-mi soptesc impletituri decente precum, iubito, while you’re traveling with me, desigur ca, you’ll never see the end of the road si baby, I think this is a song of hope. Mda. Si alte maruntisuri sentimentale de genul. Despre viata mea stiu doar ca imi scapa mereu printre degete momentul in care m-as putea aseza nestingherita pe un scaun, fie si numai pentru o clipa scurta de surpare in mine insami. Sau de adevar pe stomacul gol. Dar asta este alta poveste. Despre sufletul meu stiu...

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Millosh Gjergj Nikolla

Millosh Gjergj Nikolla (October 13, 1911 - August 26, 1938) was an Albanian poet born in Shkodër, Albania. Migjeni, pen name of Millosh Gjergj Nikolla, was born in Shkodra. In a letter of 12 January 1936 written to translator Skënder Luarasi (1900-1982) in Tirana, Migjeni announced, "I am about to send my songs to press. Since, while you were here, you promised that you would take charge of speaking to some publisher, ‘Gutemberg’ for instance, I would now like to remind you of this promise, informing you that I am ready." Two days later, Migjeni received the transfer he had earlier requested to the mountain village of Puka and on 18 April 1936 began his activities as the headmaster of the run-down school there. The clear mountain air did him some good, but the poverty and misery of the mountain tribes in and around Puka were even more overwhelming than that which he had experienced among the inhabitants of the coastal plain. Many of the children came to school barefoot and hungry, and...

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James Alan Hetfield

James Hetfield In Brief: James Alan Hetfield Born: August 3, 1963 From: Los Angeles, California Personal: Married, 2 Children Specialty: Angst-ridden, soul-rending, growling, loud-ass vocals Instrument: vocals, guitars Vitals: blue eyes, blonde hair, 6\'1\"/1.85 meters tall, weighs 180 lbs/81.65 kilos Hetfield was born to a truck driver and light opera singer on August 3rd, 1963, in Los Angeles. His family\'s Christian Science religious beliefs are often mentioned as the root of James\' \"tortured soul\" lyrics. Musically, he began at age 9 with piano lessons, then banging away on his brother David\'s drums and finally to guitar. With his guitar in hand, James aspired to become a rock star in his first band, Obsession. The band was made up of the Veloz brothers on bass and drums and Jim Arnold on guitar. A pair of friends, Ron McGovney and Dave Marrs, acted as the band\'s roadies. This meant sitting in the loft of the Veloz garage running a control panel for makeshift lighting...

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Adrian Batista

this is a test account, and a test bio. thanks for your understanding. Biografia are acum posibilitatea de a fi editata cu multe optiuni vizuale. Titlu titlu 2 un citat foarte interesant eun citat foarte intersa

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Iulia

This is real,this is me I'm exactly where i'm suppose to be

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Pierre de Saint Cloud

This skillful and cultured poet brought the adventures of Renart the Fox, known previously only in Latin, to a wider, French-speaking public. The two earliest branches of the Roman de Renart, II and Va (ca. 1174–77), which relate the love affair of Renart and Hersent the she-wolf, are attributed to him. Though he imitated Ysengrimus for three episodes (“Renart and Chantecler,” “Renart and the Titmouse,” “Renart and Hersent”) and Marie de France for another (“The Fox and the Crow”), “Renart and Tibert the Cat” is his own invention. He pokes fun at the legal system, pontifical legates and certain religious institutions, princes and nobles, through a subtle parody, intended largely to evoke laughter, of the chansons de geste and Arthurian romance. He was read and imitated by French and foreign authors of beast epics, such as Jacquemart Gielée, Heinrich der Glîchezâre, and Chaucer), by fabulists and writers of exempla (Eudes de Cheriton, Nicole Bozon, Jacques de Vitry), and by Philippe de...

9 poezii, 0 proze

Teo Dobre

What happened to this song we once knew so well? Signed promise for moments caught within the spell... What happened to wonders we once knew so well? Did we forget what happened, surely we can't tell...

7 poezii, 0 proze

Isabella

2005-prezent studentă(cică..)somewhere in this world:D

3 poezii, 0 proze

this pain can be released without medical prescription

de Daniela Bîrzu

noapte și zăpadă în această parte de lume unde doar trailerele uriașe mai trec transportând mărfurile pe străzi abrupte la fel ca sufletele noastre. în așteptare am pus: frica. zonele apropiate de...

Duplicity

de soulmate

It is then, when the sky is no longer blue, It is then, when I forget all about You, It is then, when I can not confess my sin, It is then, when my enemies win, It is then, when gravity makes it hard...

Why

de Ghiuta Stefan

Why? Ghiuta Stefan Why is there all this pain in the world, So much misery, so much war? Why cannot we teach the others, Like God taught us, to be like brothers? Why the suffering doesn’t stop? Why...

Never say never

de constantinescu claudia

You\'re surrounded by dark clouds And never think you\'ll run away Never think will be some times When you\'ll smile again...someday You\'re life is full of tears and pain But never say you live in...

November

de Ovidiu Tarau

It\'s raining in the streets...and in my head, And nobody could stop the falling rain... I can\'t fight anymore with all this pain... I cannot even think - my thoughts are dead - But where in this...