Regina Elisabeta I
si sarpele ei. De fapt, mai interesanta mi se pare figura ei. Manly
Na si sarpele.
Socks
I have just finished smelling all my socks. It smelled like a damp sock had been in the drawer for awhile. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly which one cause half of them borrowed the smell. A conspiracy. Now, as some smelled like damp gone bad, other just had this weird aroma. :D Like faint conditioner mixed with something.
Did you know I don’t keep my summer socks next to my winter ones? Fascinating.
Also, in Romanian, we call sock şosetă. But the guys from “translate” don’t do it justice. It is a really melodic word.
Blake
If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.
Blake
As fi vrut
As fi vrut, cat as fi vrut sa nu mai plecam nicicand de pe banca aceea, sa ne ingroape pe amandoi sevele vegetale, muschiul si mormanele de frunze, sa ne prefacem fara sa stim in pamant, in cenusa, in nimic.
Capitanul,
Fluturii albi mor spre sfarsitul verii
The last night of love, the first night of war
This book, The last night of love, the first night of war by Camil Petrescu is so beautiful.
Reading it feels like honey slowly making its way into my body, thick and sweet. Its the kind of book you have to make notes on the side and you feel like reading paragraphs twice just because you can’t believe it the first time. It makes me laugh inside, stop to let the words sink in, while the book rests on my chest.
The Death of Lovers
We shall have beds full of subtle perfumes,
Divans as deep as graves, and on the shelves
Will be strange flowers that blossomed for us
Under more beautiful heavens.
Using their dying flames emulously,
Our two hearts will be two immense torches
Which will reflect their double light
In our two souls, those twin mirrors.
Some evening made of rose and of mystical blue
A single flash will pass between us
Like a long sob, charged with farewells;
And later an Angel, setting the doors ajar,
Faithful and joyous, will come to revive
The tarnished mirrors, the extinguished flames.
– Charles Baudelaire
Back to books
Soo, since we had Black Friday for books, as you can see from my previous post, I did some shopping. Yeeeee
I finally found Red Grass by Boris Vian. You may not know, but I have been searching for this book for at least five years now, in all the bookstores and antique bookstores. So I was actually surprised to see it turn up on my hopeless search. :))
I bought 1Q84 set of 3 books by Haruki Murakami, probably his only book translated into Romanian I didn’t read.
My list also contains New Atlantis by Bacon, a cook book by a Romanian woman Sanda Marin, The cradle of civilization by Herta Muller, another book with sories by Vian, and The Tin Drum by Gunter Grass.
Winter is good for reading.
That feeling
Woke up again with this intense feeling I had a brilliant idea I was going to write here.
All I can remember is that it was something small, like 2-3 rows but it contained something amazing, that would strike you and make you realize …well a lot of stuff. AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
What are you?
Joc real de evadare – Bucuresti
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