A swing between the colors of the night and dawn of hearts
(A twist of past through chambers of the mind)
Categorie: English
Săptămâna ce-a trecut am lucrat în fiecare zi pentru ziua de azi. Am făcut clipuri pe care le-am trimis în eter. (Le găsiţi, dacă doriţi să le vedeţi în pagina fb sau în instagramul editurii.) Cel puţin câte unul în fiecare zi, păstrând pentru miezul nopţii dintre 30 şi 31 august cadoul cel mai drag.
Of course I wish I could have stayed more days. These were the most needed days in a long time. And no, it has nothing to do with the new virus. If it exists, it has a meaning, a purpose. Maybe there was a meaning behind the number 2 I had to bear with surprise.
Poetry Poetry is the eye that weeps it is the shoulder that weeps. It is the hand that weeps the eye of the hand that weeps It is the weeping sole the eye of the weeping heel. O, you friends, poetry is not tears It is the act of weeping – weeping from eyes not
I was 13 when I first read this poem. Of course, it wasn’t the one I was supposed to read as homework. We were studying Eminescu’s poetry for some years, each year one or two poems, usually the ones that were either about nature or considered “patriotic” by the communist regime at that time. But
Worlds of Words 