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10-21-2012, 10:27 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-21-2012, 10:31 AM by Bogdan.)
Citate din literatura. Pentru cele de genul celui postat de Warhell (chit ca a lui e din Mein Kampf) si Hegan ar merge un topic separat, cu citate generale. Cred ca WoG.com e ceva de genul Quote of the day, se poate face un thread asemanator si aici.
Anyway, cum zicea si Roby, sa stam la subiect.
The Stolen Child
William Butler Yeats
Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand.
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed -
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest
For he comes the human child
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand
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Superb.
Dezâmblânzirea
De mult negru mă albisem
De mult soare mă-nnoptasem
De mult viu mă mult murisem
Din visare mă aflasem
Vino tu cu tine toată
Ca să-ntruchipăm o roată
Vino tu fără de tine
Ca să fiu cu mine, mine
O răsai, răsai, răsai
Pe infernul meu, un rai
O rămâi, rămâi, rămâi
Palma bate-mi-o în cui
Pe crucea de carne
Când lumea adoarme.
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01-31-2013, 04:22 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-31-2013, 04:23 AM by Bogdan.)
O povestire destul de scurta, dar oarecum interesanta. Mi-a fost cam greu sa o inteleg pentru ca intra destul de mult in teorii metafizice cu care nu prea sunt familiarizat, dar ideea de baza, discutia dintru un filozof si Moarte, mi-a placut.
Show Content
'Death and What Comes Next by Terry Pratchett'When Death met the philosopher, the philosopher said, rather excitedly: "At this point, you realise, I'm both dead and not dead."
There was a sigh from Death. Oh dear, one of those, he thought. This is going to be about quantum again. He hated dealing with philosophers. They always tried to wriggle out of it.
"You see," said the philosopher, while Death, motionless, watched the sands of his life drain through the hourglass, "everything is made of tiny particles, which have the strange property of being in many places at one time. But things made of tiny particles tend to stay in one place at one time, which does not seem right according to quantum theory. May I continue?"
YES, BUT NOT INDEFINITELY, said Death, EVERYTHING IS TRANSIENT. He did not take his gaze away from the tumbling sand.
"Well, then, if we agreed that there are an infinite number of universes, then the problem is solved! If there are an unlimited number of universes, this bed can be in millions of them, all at the same time!"
DOES IT MOVE?
"What?
Death nodded at the bed. CAN YOU FEEL IT MOVING? he said.
"No, because there are a million versions of me, too, And...here is the good bit ...in some of them I am not about to pass away! Anything is possible!"
Death tapped the handle of his scythe as he considered this.
AND YOUR POINT IS...?
"Well, I'm not exactly dying, correct? You are no longer such a certainty."
There was a sigh from Death. Space he thought. That was the trouble. It was never like this on worlds with everlastingly cloudy skies. But once humans saw all that space, their brains expanded to try and fill it up.
"No answer, eh?" said the dying philosopher. "Feel a bit old-fashioned, do we?"
THIS IS A CONUNDRUM CERTAINLY, said Death. Once they prayed, he thought. Mind you, he'd never been sure that prayer worked, either. He thought for a while. AND I SHALL ANSWER IT IN THIS MANNER, he added. YOU LOVE YOUR WIFE?
"What?"
THE LADY WHO HAS BEEN LOOKING AFTER YOU. YOU LOVE HER?
"Yes. Of course."
CAN YOU THINK OF ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WHERE, WITHOUT YOUR PERSONAL HISTORY CHANGING IN ANY WAY YOU WOULD AT THIS MOMENT PICK UP A KNIFE AND STAB HER? said Death. FOR EXAMPLE?
"Certainly not!"
BUT YOUR THEORY SAYS THAT YOU MUST. IT IS EASILY POSSIBLE WITHIN THE PHYSICAL LAWS OF THE UNIVERSE, AND THEREFORE MUST HAPPEN, AND HAPPEN MANY TIMES. EVERY MOMENT IS A BILLION, BILLION MOMENTS, AND IN THOSE MOMENTS ALL THINGS THAT ARE POSSIBLE ARE INEVITABLE. ALL TIME SOONER OR LATER, BOILS DOWN TO A MOMENT.
"But of course we can make choices between-"
ARE THERE CHOICES? EVERYTHING THAT CAN HAPPEN, MUST HAPPEN. YOUR THEORY SAYS THAT FOR EVERY UNIVERSE THAT'S FORMED TO ACCOMMODATE YOUR 'NO', THERE MUST BE ONE TO ACCOMMODATE YOUR 'YES'. BUT YOU SAID YOU WOULD NEVER COMMIT MURDER. THE FABRIC OF THE COSMOS TREMBLES BEFORE YOUR TERRIBLE CERTAINTY. YOUR MORALITY BECOMES A FORCE AS STRONG AS GRAVITY. And, thought Death, space certainly has a lot to answer for.
"Was that sarcasm?"
ACTUALLY, NO. I AM IMPRESSED AND INTRIGUED, said Death. THE CONCEPT YOU PUT BEFORE ME PROVES THE EXISTENCE OF TWO HITHERTO MYTHICAL PLACES. SOMEWHERE, THERE IS A WORLD WHERE EVERYONE MADE THE RIGHT CHOICE, THE MORAL CHOICE, THE CHOICE THAT MAXIMISED THE HAPPINESS OF THEIR FELLOW CREATURES, OF COURSE, THAT ALSO MEANS THAT SOMEWHERE ELSE IS THE SMOKING REMNANT OF THE WORLD WHERE THEY DID NOT ...
"Oh, come on! I know what you're implying, and I've never believed in any of that Heaven and Hell nonsense!"
The room was growing darker. The blue gleam along the edge of the reaper's scythe was becoming more obvious.
ASTONISHING, said Death. REALLY ASTONISHING. LET ME PUT FORWARD ANOTHER SUGGESTION: THAT YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN A LUCKY SPECIES OF APE THAT IS TRYING TO UNDERSTAND THE COMPLEXITIES OF CREATION VIA A LANGUAGE THAT EVOLVED IN ORDER TO TELL ONE ANOTHER WHERE THE RIPE FRUIT WAS?
Fighting for breath, the philosopher managed to say: "Don't be silly."
THE REMARK WAS NOT INTENDED AS DEROGATORY, said Death. UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, YOU HAVE ACHIEVED A GREAT DEAL.
"We've certainly escaped from outmoded superstitions!"
WELL DONE, said Death. THAT'S THE SPIRIT. I JUST WANTED TO CHECK.
He leaned forward.
AND ARE YOU AWARE OF THE THEORY THAT THE STATE OF SOME TINY PARTICLES IS INDETERMINATE UNTIL THE MOMENT THEY ARE OBSERVED? A CAT IN A BOX IS OFTEN MENTIONED.
"Oh, yes," said the philosopher.
GOOD, said Death. He got to his feet as the last of the light died, and smiled.
I SEE YOU...
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03-01-2013, 08:55 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-01-2013, 08:59 PM by Szekemri.)
Proiectul: sa umplem youtube-ul cu poezii si cu poetii de top ai României!, a inceput.
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Foarte interesant, thumbs up si keep it up!
Also, am vazut ca ai si Sorescu, poate iti place si asta:
Show Content
Marin Sorescu - Prieteni
Prieteni
Hai sa ne sinucidem, le spun prietenilor mei.
Azi am comunicat atit de bine,
Am fost atit de tristi,
Perfectiunea asta in comun
N-o mai atingem noi
Si e pacat sa pierdem momentul.
Cred ca in baie e cel mai tragic,
Sa facem pe romanii cei luminati
Care isi deschideau venele,
Discutind despre existenta iubirii
Uite, am incalzit apa.
Incepem, dragi prieteni, numar eu: unu, doi, trei...
In iad am fost oarecum surprins, pomenindu-ma singur,
Unii poate mor mai greu, mi-am spus, au mai multe legaturi.
Nu se poate sa ma fi pacalit: cuvintul inseamna ceva,
Dar timpul trece...
Mi-a fost destul de greu, in iad, va asigur,
Mai ales la inceput, stiti eram singur,
N-aveam cu cine sa mai schimb o vorba,
Dar incetul cu incetul, m-am atasat, mi-am facut prieteni.
Un cerc extraordinar de sudat,
Discutam tot felul de chestiuni teoretice.
Ne simteam minunat,
Am ajuns chiar pina la sinucidere.
...Si iarasi m-am pomenit singur in purgatoriu,
Cautindu-mi citeva suflete mai apropiate,
Desi sint destul de suspiciosi
Purgatorienii-cu situatia lor neclara
Intre doua lumi-
O fata ma iubeste, e foarte frumoasa,
Avem clipe de mare extaz-nemaipomenit, fantastic!
Si chiar imi vine pe limba sa-i spun...
Patit, o las pe ea mai intii,
Eu ma sinucid abia dupa aceea,
Dar fata face ce face si-nvie-
Si iata-ma singur in rai-
Nimeni n-a patruns aici niciodata,
Sint primul om, lumea exista ca proiect,
Ceva foarte vag,
In capul lui Dumnezeu,
Cu care chiar ma imprietenesc de la o vreme.
Exista tristete la toate nivelurile,
Dumnezeu e deznadajduit,
Ma uit in ochii lui goi si ma pierd in ei.
El aluneca vijiind in prapastiile mortilor mele.
Comunicam de minune,
Doamne, cred ca am atins perfectiunea,
Tu mai intii,
Ce-ar fi sa lasam totul in intuneric?
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(03-01-2013, 09:01 PM)Bogdan Wrote: Foarte interesant, thumbs up si keep it up!
Also, am vazut ca ai si Sorescu, poate iti place si asta:
Sorescu e preferatul meu si da imi place. Sorescu va fi rege printre postari si daca-si reusi sa fac ceva potrivit piesei Iona, ar fi ceva incredibil pentru mine.
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Ma repet, foarte tare ideea! De abia astept sa vad ce iti iese la Iona. Ai putea sa modifici imaginea de fundal in functie de momentul actiunii din piesa, ar fi un fel de punere in scena simbolica, ca sa zic asa.
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❝ Dintr-un om pot fi ucise numai cuvintele ştiute de el
Dintr-o piatră nu se poate ucide nimic
Dintr-un cais numai câteva caise
Luptătorule, îţi zic,
Dintr-un om nu pot fi ucise decât cuvintele ştiute de el. ❞
-----------------------------------------------------
Cu bulgări de zăpadă-n mâini
Azvârl în focul veşnic.
O zână, ninsă săptămâni,
Îmi ţine luna sfeşnic.
Când, aplecat şi încordat,
În focul veşnic bulgări reci
Azvârl, mai alb, mai nepătat
Decât au fost în veci.
Se stinge? Nu se stinge, nu!
El arde-n flame lungi şi iată
Sprânceana mea-i de fum acu'
Şi fruntea încordată.
Apă şi foc, gheaţă şi fum -
Azvârl şi strig, azvârl şi strig:
Priviţi-mă, trăiesc şi sunt acum,
Şi mă las nins şi nu mi-e frig.
------------------------------------------------------------------
CÂNTEC SINGUR
Te-am hotărât cu ochii negri,
deci fie noapte-ncercănată!
…rămas departe, printre crenge,
mă cheamă gândul tău de fată.
Le-ai adunat în ochi cuvinte
neştirilor nepângărite…
NICHITA STĂNESCU
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George Bacovia
Când ore libere
Sună
Din vechi acordeon
De-a zilelor bravade...
Relativ,
Pardon.
Când ore libere
Sună
Uitări şi abandon,
De-a lumii baricade...
Relativ,
Pardon.
----
Fuck me, e prea tare.
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03-13-2013, 01:55 AM
(This post was last modified: 03-13-2013, 01:57 AM by Bogdan.)
Poezia din introul jocului The Void. Nu stiu cine a scris-o.
The dream of the future you see dissolves,
And with time so does the apprehension.
The world under sun is no exception,
And all you see around you evolves.
New traits in things familiar can be sensed,
But futile is hope without fruition.
The grief you knew begets no vision
The happiness you felt becomes regret.
Winter fades and takes its cold and storm,
Spring revives the world with love and warmth,
But still the law: all things decay and age.
Vanity itself won’t dry your tears,
And so you fear as your time draws near
The world will turn but never change.
Recomand sa o ascultati, din nou, nu stiu a cui e vocea, dar mi-a atins niste corzi sensibile.
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