45,651 matches
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tu, omule, nu se știe dacă trupa asta va avea sediul în Rai sau în Iad... După cele două rugăciuni, bunicul trecea, după expresia fratelui meu mai mare, la "liber-alese". Aici era concentrată toată atenția noastră, pentru că puteam afla ce ofuri are bunicul, ce bobârnace pregătise pentru fiecare dintre noi. Hai, vino și ascultă, îmi șoptea sora cea mijlocie, hai, că începe bunicul să ne pârască lui Dumnezeu... Bunicul făcea, într-adevăr, un fel de raport zilnic lui Dumnezeu. Ne lua
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1577_a_2875]
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pe fiecare în parte și-I spunea, pe scurt după ce se ruga pentru sănătatea și norocul fiecăruia -, mai ales ce nemulțumiri provocasem în ultima zi sau, dacă nu era sigur că Dumnezeu îl ascultase cu o zi înainte, relua și oful din acea zi. Îl ruga, evlavios, pe Dumnezeu, să intervină urgent pentru a-l aduce pe calea ce bună pe cel care călcase strâmb, "pentru că numai Tu, Doamne, mai poți repara ceva în sufletul acestui păcătos". Brusc, spre final, glasul
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1577_a_2875]
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fascinated by the harmony of the house in that landscape. Little by little, the background became narrower and narrower, and in front of my eyes there was only that house, enlighten by the lack of time and by the universality of its space. I must have admired that house for hours before a man came close to me and asked me if I was feeling fine. We headed together for that house that had proved to be an inn. I thought
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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objects and that there was no one living there. To my surprise, I was the thirteen person to put up at the inn that evening./ He came back to his native land. There was no place like that forgotten piece of world, where that huge area of dry soil stood motionless. Wherever you would look there would be only that brown, massive, high land (it seemed to me very tall), there was only the majestic and the solitude. Now and then
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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one living there. To my surprise, I was the thirteen person to put up at the inn that evening./ He came back to his native land. There was no place like that forgotten piece of world, where that huge area of dry soil stood motionless. Wherever you would look there would be only that brown, massive, high land (it seemed to me very tall), there was only the majestic and the solitude. Now and then a scathing, salty wind would keep
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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tall), there was only the majestic and the solitude. Now and then a scathing, salty wind would keep you company. Still that desert had something sweet in it; something that made him fell protected and safe. It was the feeling of being home, the feeling of power, of greatness, of a land where it was forever day. What he loved most about that landscape was the way the sun was shining, making his rays touch every inch of the ground, but
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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majestic and the solitude. Now and then a scathing, salty wind would keep you company. Still that desert had something sweet in it; something that made him fell protected and safe. It was the feeling of being home, the feeling of power, of greatness, of a land where it was forever day. What he loved most about that landscape was the way the sun was shining, making his rays touch every inch of the ground, but without letting himself seen: when
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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crying from its tiredness. The room looked clean and all the objects seemed carefully arranged, but one could feel an air of abandonment. The dust created the image of ugliness and nothingness. The fanned flowers looked fragile and taken out of time. One could breath an air of cold and wet coming from all the things inside, an air somehow mixed with a repulsing feminity. Only the desk looked bright and dry. The dust gave it a sweet smell, the same
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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thicket, hidden from imprudent eyes by a charmed throne hedge. Around it the place was clean and neat, with not a single weed. Furthermore, everyone could see that the nature had respected its yard by preserving there a light layer of golden dust. It was as if a spell would let only the fairies and pure people come close to the castle. We felt special because of the privilege to see such magical and immortal beauty. Even though the evening was
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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We stood in the saloon and admired the wooden table, the soft carpet woven by the king's daughter showing beautiful waters, rich mountains, distinguish places, famous kingdoms, we looked at the covered in silk chest that was probably full of majestic dresses and that had probably been carried to all kinds of realness and a back of dragons or golden griffins, we saw the golden cage of the bird of fire. We did not, however, had the courage to go
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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s daughter showing beautiful waters, rich mountains, distinguish places, famous kingdoms, we looked at the covered in silk chest that was probably full of majestic dresses and that had probably been carried to all kinds of realness and a back of dragons or golden griffins, we saw the golden cage of the bird of fire. We did not, however, had the courage to go upstairs because we considered we would have entered in much more mysterious grounds. Still, I snicked there
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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at the covered in silk chest that was probably full of majestic dresses and that had probably been carried to all kinds of realness and a back of dragons or golden griffins, we saw the golden cage of the bird of fire. We did not, however, had the courage to go upstairs because we considered we would have entered in much more mysterious grounds. Still, I snicked there by myself. It was tall. I reached that place in the sky, that
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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vis și de rubine. Poezia rusă și poezia germană, parnasienii. (Preafrumoasă fată). Totul (tout cela, everything vanished) nu se mai văzu dincolo de focul care îi înghiți. Și flăcările portocalii cuprinseră încăperea. (The Phoenix) It takes off from the tallest summit of those savage, tall mountains and it defies everything by not taking any look around, by not caring. Look at heading so high in the sky (văzduh), that the human eye looks track of it. In the midways, when the shining
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It takes off from the tallest summit of those savage, tall mountains and it defies everything by not taking any look around, by not caring. Look at heading so high in the sky (văzduh), that the human eye looks track of it. In the midways, when the shining height makes it difficult to keep your eyes open, it flies casually around the sun, superposing its orange, red plumage on the yellow, hot light of the sun in such a manner that
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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the sky. Și this time, it touches the sun. Its cinders can be touched as they spred in the wind, they touched the sublime. But you can't tell if the Phoenix was happy. The nature keeps a solemn moment of silence. The next morning, its ashes return to the place of death and begin following the sun. The star might take pity on the bird, helping it as it helped it touch him the previous midday, reborn. After such a
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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it that the Earth doesn't let it go? Maybe simply the sun does not wanted back. I think that the Phoenix is a piece of the Sun that loves both the Earth and the Sun. It dies for both of them, prooving both its love and its repent. (Horses) They are beautiful, they are said to be the most noble creatures, but still they can make me sad. I see them running free on an incredible large prairie, running in
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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adâncă. Însă într-o zi cele două s-au întrepătruns și s-a creat lumea de azi, un văl de fum al unei țigări pe terminate. Și se găsi echilibrul. Trandafiri întunecați și roze pustii lucesc în noapte. The story of a young lady " Clarissa Harlow" by Samuel Richardson, "Muncile lui Persiles și ale Sigismundei" de Miguel de Cervantes în română, I.S. Turgheniev, A.P.Cehov, chiar și "Mistere" de K. Hamsure. "Strada Ancorei", Ion Aramă. Siluete fantomatice traversau prin ceață străzile
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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you that Jamaica is quite peaceful, not at all like you said it would be. The sea is calm, and one can hear the cry of the seagulls as in a pleasant melody of nature, togheter with the huge amount of water. The breeze of the evening, the heisurely wind of the night, it is all part of another land, and that seems to never end, to last forever, from this place forward, prolonged into eternity. All this is Immortality. In
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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surrounded by a few trees. The place looks more like a pension that can give shelter to at least ten persons. It has one floor and it is made mostly of reed and exotic wood. I have met a cuple of persons with whom I can talk about lost things, about the past. They too, have been caught by the spell of the island in a marvelous contemplation. In the night I discover completely different side of the island: indigenes' parties
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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etape: să afli ce vrei și să obții. E adevărat că în prima ești mai vulnerabil, dar cea de-a doua doare mai tare. La mine doare cu atât mai tare cu cât îmi e inaccesibil. Și tocmai această pursuit of pleasure, urmărirea desfătărilor, chiar dacă bine ținută sub control cu ajutorul principiilor, m-a cam chinuit. Viața mea de până acum a fost așa de încurcată că nu mai țin minte nimic, poate de aici și ceața respectivă. Între atâtea plăceri și
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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a ajutat, abia atunci l-am remarcat cu adevărat. Comunicasem prin semne, deoarece el era străin, din Ucraina. Am mai schimbat de atunci câteva vorbe în engleză. Pe fundalul pitoresc al unui Românii înstelate și pe melodiile în surdină "Funeral of hearts" (Him) și "Come into my world" (Kylie Minogue), ce-mi ilustrau viu în minte videoclipurile lor, m-a întrebat de câteva ori cate ceva. De fiecare data intra în vorba cu un ,,Excuse me", apropiindu-se de mine. Mi-
[Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1508_a_2806]
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Ucraina. Măi schimbăm câteva vorbe, la inițiativa lui, care, cu un ,,excuse me" mă mai întrebă câte ceva. Îmi oferă chiar și alune: ,,This may sum pretty foolish..." Toate acestea pe melodiile (și respectiv videoclipurile ce îmi veneau în minte) "Funeral of hearts", "The Sacrament" (Him) și "Come into my world" (Kylie Minogue), ce mă fac să mă gândesc, în mod ciudat, la copilăria mea, și într-o Românie înstelată. El este atrăgător, blonduț, de înălțime potrivită, suplu, puțin peste 30 de
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2003) și în literatură engleză (Tohoku University, 2007). A publicat volumele Lumile lui Argus. O morfotipologie a poeziei vizionare (2005), Ipostaze ale actului critic. Eseuri și cronici literare (2005), Revealer of the Fourfold Secret: William Blake's Theory and Practice of Vision (2008), precum și numeroase articole în reviste de specialitate din țară și din străinătate (Germania, Japonia, Spania). Roxana Ghiță, Cătălin Ghiță, (c) 2008, Editura Institutul European, Iași (c) Roxana Ghiță, fotografii INSTITUTUL EUROPEAN Iași, str. Lascăr Catargi nr. 43, 700107
Darurile zeiţei Amaterasu by Roxana Ghiţă, Cătălin Ghiţă [Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1390_a_2632]
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deveni inutil. Genialul Filimon însă nu se mulțumește să relateze cu lux de amănunte sfârșitul personajelor sale negative (Tuzluc, Costea Chiorul și Păturică; Duduca sfârșise în Dunăre, așa că absenta de la reuniunea funerară), ci le pune chiar, într-un romantic turn of events, să se întâlnească pe drumul spre groapă. Desigur, simte că nu a fost suficient de clar, astfel că, la finalul expunerii, ne face și un rezumat, cu rol fulminant de concluzie: "Iată cum își terminară cariera vieții acești trei
Darurile zeiţei Amaterasu by Roxana Ghiţă, Cătălin Ghiţă [Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1390_a_2632]
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în stative, eu mi-am băgat nasul pentru că mi plăceau desenele care ieșeau de pe urma țesutului dintre bătătura din cânepă și urzeala din lână pură de casă, m-a întrebat: -Ei, ce zici, te duci la preoție? -Știu, tu ai un of al tău, dar Dumnezeu este mare... -Voi vedea mamă, i-am zis numai așa să n-o supăr. De fapt doream ceva și-mi plăcea altceva ... Mamei mele, cea mai scumpă ființă de pe lume, am compus și-i închin poeziile
LA DEPĂNAREA FUSULUI by COSTANTIN Haralambie () [Corola-publishinghouse/Imaginative/1621_a_2949]