
HARDLY ANYTHING, BY FRANCIS CABREL: When poetry feel into musical notes
“So here is all I am good at some wind blowing through bamboo chests, pieces of sky to be put on your eyelids and some more hung to your neck. It’s nothing but usual sky, some blue you can see everywhere, still I have put all my craft into it, on top of our whole story. You see, it’s hardly …
Read More »ANDREA DEL SARTO: Master of the Florentine Renaissance tradition
AGNOLO BRONZINO: Among the finest painters of the late the Florentine Renaissance
WAITING FOR THE SPRING: Bright colors of seasons away, who never went out
YOU HAVE SAID – Poetry, by Yukitsuna Sasaki
“You said you wanted my son! You’re stupid! Water running seething in the river breaks the vortex sound you are my arms. A verse of poetry is straight oscillates in the steam that rises shaking the earth. “ (By Yukitsuna Sasaki)
Read More »DIE OF NOT TO DIE – Poetry, by Paul Éluard
“Your eyes are an arbitrary income countries where no one has ever known what it is that a glance nor known the beauty of the eyes, beautiful stones, the drops of water, closets beads. Bare stones, without skeleton, O my statue. The blinding sun holds you place mirror and it seems to obey the evening of powers is that …
Read More »JE L’AIME A MOURIR, BY FRANCIS CABREL: When poetry feel into musical notes
“Moi je n’étais rien, mais voilà qu’aujourd’hui. Je suis le gardien du sommeil de ses nuits. Je l’aime à mourir. Vous pouvez détruire tout ce qu’il vous plaira, elle n’aura qu’à ouvrir l’espace de ses bras pour tout reconstruire, pour tout reconstruire. Je l’aime à mourir. Elle a gommé les chiffres des horloges du quartier. Elle a fait de ma …
Read More »I SING I SWIM, BY SEABEAR: When poetry feel into musical notes
“When the birds are sleeping, that’s when the trees sing, you left your winter clothes, and your teeth marks in my skin. So shake the leaves off the trees, watch them float down the stream. Your son, your daughter swimming in the water, and I miss you, even when you’re around, I’m a black cloud, sending lightning to the ground. …
Read More »FROM THE COLLECTION “SOUL” – A poem by Birgitta Trotzig
“I see in the green area indefinitely, whispering infinite body of whispers, languages, languages and green eyes, reflexes and mobility, moisture, sparks of light – how they are separate, I do not have a separate, I’m in an eye, everything is mirages and whispers, light in a dark mirror errs increasingly far into the woods reflection”.
Read More »TRIP TO SCANDINAVIA, THE SECOND STAGE: From Skagen in Copenhagen, in the heart of Denmark, along with Arne, smelling the scent of Andersen
From Flensburg to Skagen, was the first part of our trip to Scandinavia. I hope you slept well in our small motorhome. I made you breakfast. I’ve already eaten, now I go out a little, to stretch my legs and take some pictures of Skagen. I will use one of our two bikes, to get up to the old lighthouse …
Read More »UNITED COLOURS OF THE PRESENT – Surrendering among the roses, hope and forget, watching the smile that starts in the eyes
MOMENTS – A. Palazzeschi: This, unknown, in a moment of abandonment and neglect, silences in my body, in this point, the evil word “I” as a that of a dead person. FAR FROM THE ANGELS – J. Carrera Andrade: I was born in the century of the death of the rose, when the engine had already run away the angels. …
Read More »TRIP TO SCANDINAVIA: First leg of the journey, from Flensburg in Skagen
Good Morning. Ready to go? Well, this morning – from Flensburg to Skagen – we expect about 500 km of road. As you see, we have already crossed the invisible border between Germany and Denmark, but do not ask me to stop in Tonder to buy lace, because the journey is long. If you want (your imagining a return to …
Read More »AFTER EARLY MORNING – Poetry, by Inger Christensen
AFTER EARLY MORNING “After the first morning I look for the faint flue language. Again and again I kiss the memory of the waken! waken! The sun and the wings that will mix,, in brown steam morning. What you have given to my thoughts is the opposition of the sting hidden in my flower pounds. What you have given me …
Read More »LITTLE TRIP TO THE SCANDINAVIAN POETRY: Tomas Tranströmer
COUPLE – by Tomas Tranströmer “Shuts off the light, but its white bell jar still gleams an instant, before vanishing altogether as a tablet in a glass of darkness. Then he gets up, and the walls of the hotel they rush into the darkness of the sky. The movements of love are exhausted, and they sleep, but most secret …
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