Thursday, 11 November 2010
o iubire alb-albastră
Craiova e o echipă greu de iubit, dar, dacă ajungi să o iubeşti, nu-ţi mai iese din suflet.
Suntem olteni, adică suntem munţi...
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
we are who we are
"they say the eyes are the mirror to your soul. bullshit. it's the hands. they are the sign of a true gentleman."
how is it like not to feel anything and at the same time to be able to create masterpieces with the help of your soul? I sometimes wonder why people, often, so very often, creators of works of art that others stare at and would not even be able to describe in words, could be such insensitive or lack even the most common of manners. I tell it from the start. I am not about to hand out names. walking the streets, one can, at times, be a party to events that may change thoughts, mentalities. or people. as a whole. I once saw a singer, strolling. his melodies talk about love, women and all the shapes and forms they can take or come to life in. one young girl went to ask for an autograph. politely, with a smile on her face and pen and paper in her hands. he, as from another world, where signs of affection are perhaps outlawed, passed by, in an obvious change of pace, without even the slightest of gestures. almost infuriated his air dared to be breathed in and out by someone else. and I cannot help asking: where did he, then, find all those words to depict femininity and endearment, when, at such a pure display of affection, he remained cold and untouched?
people don't change. a gentleman would walk but never run.
how is it like not to feel anything and at the same time to be able to create masterpieces with the help of your soul? I sometimes wonder why people, often, so very often, creators of works of art that others stare at and would not even be able to describe in words, could be such insensitive or lack even the most common of manners. I tell it from the start. I am not about to hand out names. walking the streets, one can, at times, be a party to events that may change thoughts, mentalities. or people. as a whole. I once saw a singer, strolling. his melodies talk about love, women and all the shapes and forms they can take or come to life in. one young girl went to ask for an autograph. politely, with a smile on her face and pen and paper in her hands. he, as from another world, where signs of affection are perhaps outlawed, passed by, in an obvious change of pace, without even the slightest of gestures. almost infuriated his air dared to be breathed in and out by someone else. and I cannot help asking: where did he, then, find all those words to depict femininity and endearment, when, at such a pure display of affection, he remained cold and untouched?
people don't change. a gentleman would walk but never run.
Friday, 5 November 2010
cu tine
Cu tine viaţa mea se luminează,
Cu tine hotărăsc a obosi,
Cu tine urc astenic spre amiază
Şi mă sfârşesc în fiecare zi.
Cu tine e-mpăcare şi e luptă,
Cu tine este tot şi e nimic,
Cu tine-mi înfloreşte lancea ruptă,
Cu tine sunt şi mare, sunt şi mic.
Cu tine totu-i parcă unt pe pâine,
Cu tine bradu-i brad, şi nu sicriu,
Cu tine astăzi mi se face mâine.
Cu tine mor pentru a fi mai viu.
Cu tine poezia mea există,
Cu tine chem zăpezi şi-alung zăpezi,
Cu tine nici tristeţea nu e tristă,
Cu tine eu te văd când nu mă vezi.
Cu tine sunt nedrept şi sunt dreptate,
Cu tine sunt gelos şi sunt gheţar,
Cu tine-ncep şi se termină toate,
Cu tine într-un schit apar - dispar.
Cu tine e lumină şi-ntuneric,
Cu tine zac să mă-nsănătoşesc,
Cu tine cubul redevine sferic,
Cu tine ce-i drăcesc e îngeresc.
Cu tine e mai rău şi e mai bine,
Cu tine reîncepe viaţa mea,
Cu tine e mai greu ca fără tine,
Dar fără tine nu s-ar mai putea.
de Adrian Păunescu (1943 - 2010)
Cu tine hotărăsc a obosi,
Cu tine urc astenic spre amiază
Şi mă sfârşesc în fiecare zi.
Cu tine e-mpăcare şi e luptă,
Cu tine este tot şi e nimic,
Cu tine-mi înfloreşte lancea ruptă,
Cu tine sunt şi mare, sunt şi mic.
Cu tine totu-i parcă unt pe pâine,
Cu tine bradu-i brad, şi nu sicriu,
Cu tine astăzi mi se face mâine.
Cu tine mor pentru a fi mai viu.
Cu tine poezia mea există,
Cu tine chem zăpezi şi-alung zăpezi,
Cu tine nici tristeţea nu e tristă,
Cu tine eu te văd când nu mă vezi.
Cu tine sunt nedrept şi sunt dreptate,
Cu tine sunt gelos şi sunt gheţar,
Cu tine-ncep şi se termină toate,
Cu tine într-un schit apar - dispar.
Cu tine e lumină şi-ntuneric,
Cu tine zac să mă-nsănătoşesc,
Cu tine cubul redevine sferic,
Cu tine ce-i drăcesc e îngeresc.
Cu tine e mai rău şi e mai bine,
Cu tine reîncepe viaţa mea,
Cu tine e mai greu ca fără tine,
Dar fără tine nu s-ar mai putea.
de Adrian Păunescu (1943 - 2010)
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