THE HURRICANE: Poetry, by Léopold Sédar Senghor

THE HURRICANE The hurricane uproots everything around me, the hurricane uproots me in leaves and useless words. Whirlwinds of passion hiss silent, but peace is the tornado arid, on the escape of the rainy season. You wind burning pure wind, wind of summer, it burns you every flower, every thought compartment, when the sand dunes lies on the heart. Anvella, …

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EXERCISE OF STYLE: Poetry, by Carmen Camacho

EXERCISE OF STYLE I’ll try not to use perfect words, such beauty, freedom, your light. Too big, they are waiting. More urgently, it says: last night I counted with the body, three hundred fingers of your hand. (Carmen Camacho)

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A SMALL ANCIENT WORLD, IN A VALLEY: Castles of the Loire, France

By bike, of course. If you want, you can rent a bicycle to observe – with deliberate slowness – wonderful castles and inns. While riding, you breathe a special atmosphere, full of history and balmy air of the Atlantic Ocean. You must remember, that the nobles who had chosen the Valley of Loria to build their 700 castles, breathing this …

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ONE DAY WILL EXIST: Poetry, by Rainer Maria Rilke

ONE DAY WILL EXIST One day there will the girl and the woman, whose name will no longer mean only one opposed to the male, but something in itself, something that will not be expected to complete and border, but only in real life: the feminine humanity. This progress will transform the experience of love, which is now full of …

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SOMETIMES YOUR SADNESS IS A YACHT: Poetry, by Jack Underwood

SOMETIMES YOUR SADNESS IS A YACHT Huge, white and expensive, like an anvil dropped from heaven: how will we get onboard, up there, when it hurts our necks to look? Other times it is a rock on the lawn, and matter can never be destroyed. But today we hold it to the edge of our bed, shutting our eyes, on …

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THE CHAPEL OF THE MAGI: Florence, Palazzo Medici

Welcome on Florence, where history and art combine to bear witness to the past, in exceptional way. You can go with me inside special site, where we can see the Renaissance in Medicean Florence, into the Chapel of the Magi (in Palazzo Medici-Riccardi). We can admire one special chapel – secret and precious – imagining the religious heart of one …

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AN EVENING IN COPENHAGEN: Smoked salmon, jazz and something intriguing

Café Petersborg – in Bredgade 76 – right next alo Amaliengorg, is the restaurant where I would like to take this evening, an elegant and refined, but if you prefer a quieter corner, right on the edge of the channel, we could go to the restaurant Kanalen – in Frederiksholm Kanal 18 – good for eating smoked salmon from Bornholm, …

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MARICHIKO, POEMS OF LOVE: If I think

IF I THINK If I thought I could go away to come to you, ten thousand miles would be a mile. But we’re in the same city and I dare not see you, and a mile It is longer than a million miles. (Marichico) http://www.amazon.co.uk/Love-Poems-Marichiko-Kenneth-Rexroth/dp/0879221003      

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OUR HANDS IN THE WATER: Poetry, by Yves Bonnefoy

OUR HANDS IN THE WATER We fidget this water. In it, our hands are sought, sometimes touching, broken shapes. Further down, is a current, is something invisible, other trees, other lights, other dreams. And look, are also other colors. Refraction transfigures the red. It was a summer day? No, it is the time that will change the sky, and into …

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ROTATIONS: Poetry, by Lorenzo Mari

ROTATIONS The rotation of a star, I understand with the heart. There are red hot stones on the night of the body. These are the names that trace their orbit of oblivion, their ellipse years and forgetfulness. (Lorenzo Mari)

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