I am sure that you will have already photographed the Chain Bridge (one of the eight bridges citizens, along with many other beautiful things of Budapest), so I’ll talk about something else, such as shop Pannon Antik – a workshop in the heart of Pest, really rich in memories of the past have not yet been turned off). http://www.budapest.com/travel/tourist_information/information_offices.en.html?sid=4sh33rg3d7u6sciqooplmtnhf2 Do …
Read More »FIRES BURN: Poetry, by Marichiko
FIRES BURN Fires burn in my heart. Do not smoke rises. Nobody knows. (Marichiko)
Read More »ROCKING HORSE: Poetry, by Tawari Machi
ROCKING HORSE Back and forth without going anywhere raising a child this is like rocking horse time that you gave to me. (Tawari Machi)
Read More »JACK BUTLER YEATS (1871/1957), IRISH ARTIST: The artist of the inner landscapes, impressionist painter and romantic.
ON THE MOUNTAIN OF THE GODS: Between Macedonia and Thessaly, to observe the world with divine eyes
Welcome to Greece, in the charming city of Thessaloniki. The route that we propose the citizen from the arch of Galerius (a piece of Roman history), the tower of Hormisdas (a shade of persia), Aghios Gherorghios (ancient place of worship) and the White Tower (a piece of Venice) . As you see, this was – and remains – a border …
Read More »TSUGUHARU FOUJITA (1866/1968), JAPANESE PAINTER: Shades of Japanese ink, in a personal style developed in Paris
VALENTIN ALEXANDROVICH SEROV (1865/1911), PAINTER RUSSIAN: The pictorial realism of an actor, freshness painted on canvas.
WHEN YOU WILL BE OLD: Poetry, by William Butler Yeats
WHEN YOU WILL BE OLD When you’re old, wavering between fire and waking take this book, read it unhurriedly and dreams of the sweetness of your eyes for a time, and their shadows. How many loved your sweet grace of that time, and the beauty of a true or false love. But one only loved your soul pilgrim, and the …
Read More »WHAT WOULD NOT THIS WORLD: Poetry, by Samuel Beckett
WHAT WOULD NOT THIS WORLD What would I do without ever this world, faceless or questions, where to be but for a moment in which each instant, spills into the void of oblivion have been without this wave where finally will collapse together body and shadow. What would I do without this ever silent abyss of whispers, panting furiously rescue …
Read More »6 EMOTIONS IN DUBLIN: A tomb and a boarding school, a museum, a city district and the National Museum, without losing the General Post Office
Of course, in Dublin you can go wherever you want, but I would recommend to you – even if only part of your itinerary – something you will not find in a guidebook. If you go in the St. Patrick Cathedral, you will experience a thrill of tenderness, looking at the grave of Jonathan Swift, one that is next to …
Read More »GIOVANNI BOLDINI (1842/1931), ITALIAN PAINTER: Elegant longues and Tuscan landscapes, willowy women and uninhibited
VINCENT VAN GOGH (1853/1890), DUTCH PAINTER: Self-portraits, but also the realism of still lifes and cypresses, fields of wheat fields and sunflowers.
HOW YOU SHOULD KISSING: Poetry, by Erich Fried
HOW YOU SHOULD KISSING When I kiss you, not just your mouth, not just your belly button, it’s not just that I kiss your lap. I also kiss your questions, and your desires, I kiss your thinking, your doubts, and your courage, your love for me, and your freedom from me, your foot that has come here, and that’s …
Read More »THE WOMAN LEFT HAND: Poetry, by Peter Handke
THE WOMAN LEFT HAND Her climbed with other from a metro station, ate with with other in a warm table, with other was waiting in a laundry, but once I saw her alone, in front of a wall newspaper. She was dating with other from a skyscraper of offices, she trod with other at a stand, she sat with other …
Read More »IF I MELT – Poetry, by Marja Virolainen
IF I MELT If I melt fusing in the rain, and the window see the nightjar, before sleeping when you take off the white shirt, open window: it’s me, scalded wings, flourish in your eyes, I support your neck burning, a soft laugh, whispers, I open my wings on your chest, I close them, I land in a breath, on …
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