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Literature

This category contains 73 posts

Pull A String, A Puppet Moves: Charles Bukowski / Chris Friel

pull a string, a puppet moves … each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire, the bed, the walls, the room; all our necessities including love, rest on foundations of sand – and any given cause, no matter how unrelated: the death of … Continue reading

Waiting to be found : Michael Boiano / Onofrio Pacenza

So many waiting to be found: the dead buried in unlikely places, shallow graves,  in unhallowed ground; the living interred in pointless lives, unknown, unsought, unmissed; bored husbands and wives hoping to be found by others who might love them more, for a time; the religious waiting to be found by God and rewarded for … Continue reading

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock : T.S.Elliot / Diana Blok

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero, Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo. Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a … Continue reading

La Passion suspendue : Marguerite Duras

Journaliste à «la Stampa», Leopoldina Pallota della Torre rencontre Marguerite Duras en 1987. Il a fallu parlementer longtemps, dit-elle, pour convaincre la romancière, occupée à écrire le scénario de «l’Amant», de la recevoir dans son appartement de la rue Saint-Benoît. La journaliste se souvient de l’avoir d’abord vue «de dos, petite, très petite, assise comme … Continue reading

To The Nightingale : Jorge Luis Borges / Edmund Dulac

On what secret night in England Or by the incalculable constant Rhine, Lost among all the nights of my nights, Carried to my unknowing ear Your voice, burdened with mythology, Nightingale of Virgil, of the Persians? Perhaps I never heard you, yet my life I bound to your life, inseparably. A wandering spirit is your … Continue reading

Love at First Sight : Wislawa Szymborska / Peter Seelig

Love at First Sight They’re both convinced that a sudden passion joined them. Such certainty is beautiful but uncertainty is more beautiful still. Since they’d never met before, they’re sure that there’d been nothing between them. But what’s the word from the streets, staircases, hallways – perhaps they’ve passed each other by a million times? … Continue reading

Leaves of Grass : Walt Whitman / Lawren Harris

O swift wind! O space and time! now I see it is true, what I guessed at; What I guess’d when I loaf’d on the grass; What I guess’d while I lay alone in my bed, And again as I walk’d the beach under the paling stars of the morning. My ties and ballasts leave … Continue reading

A Note : Wisława Szymborska / David Bates

Life is the only way to get covered in leaves, catch your breath on the sand, rise on wings; to be a dog, or stroke its warm fur; to tell pain from everything it’s not; to squeeze inside events, dawdle in views, to seek the least of all possible mistakes. An extraordinary chance to remember … Continue reading

Paris is a moveable feast – Ernest Hemingway

If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast. —Ernest Hemingway to a friend,1950 9 Ford Madox Ford and the Devil’s Disciple The Closerie des Lilas was the nearest good cafe when … Continue reading

Combat – Albert Camus

Le monde est ce qu’il est, c’est-à-dire peu de chose. C’est ce que chacun sait depuis hier grâce au formidable concert que la radio, les journaux et les agences d’information viennent de déclencher au sujet de la bombe atomique. On nous apprend, en effet, au milieu d’une foule de commentaires enthousiastes que n’importe quelle ville … Continue reading

PARIS: Louis Aragon / Marc Chagall

PARIS Où fait-il bon même au coeur de l’orage Où fait-il clair même au coeur de la nuit L’air est alcool et le malheur courage Carreaux cassés l’espoir encore y luit Et les chansons montent des murs détruits Jamais éteint renaissant de la braise Perpétuel brûlot de la patrie Du Point-du-Jour jusqu’au Père-Lachaise Ce doux … Continue reading

I Am Not Yours: Sara Teasdale / Louise Bourgeois

I am not yours, not lost in you, Not lost, although I long to be Lost as a candle lit at noon, Lost as a snowflake in the sea. You love me, and I find you still A spirit beautiful and bright, Yet I am I, who long to be Lost as a light is … Continue reading

Solitude : Guy de Maupassant / Edward Hopper

There we were, a bunch of men, after a dinner together. We’d had a great time. One of the guys, an old friend, asked me: “Would you mind taking a walk down the Champs-Elysees with me?” We left on a slow stroll down the long avenue, under trees with barely any leaves left on them. … Continue reading

Past One O’Clock : Vladimir Mayakovsky / Peter Seelig

1 She loves me-loves me not. My hands I pick and having broken my fingers fling away. So the first daisy-heads one happens to flick are plucked, and guessing, scattered into May. Let a cut and shave reveal my grey hairs. Let the silver of the years ring out endlessly ! Shameful common sense – … Continue reading

The Nobodies: Eduardo Galeano / Carol Munder

Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping poverty: that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on them—will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies … Continue reading

The passion according to G.H – Clarice Lispector

GIVE ME YOUR HAND: I am now going to tell you how I entered the inexpressive that was alwayqs my blind and secret search. How I entered whatever exists between the number one and the number two, how I saw the line of mystery and fire, and which is surreptitios line. A note exists between … Continue reading

I Am With You : Kassák Lajos / Manuel Alvarez Bravo

In front of you I go you in front of me the early sun’s gold chain jingles on my wrist. Where are you going — I ask you answer — how do I know. I speed up my walk but you speed all the more. I in front of you you in front of me. … Continue reading

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