"The magic never ends."

Azi m-am trezit cu chef de povesti. Si de atunci caut povestea potrivita acestei zile...

The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

How do I love thee, Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with a passion put to useI

n my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Tot ce am port cu mine

In sfarsit am intrat in blogosfera. Dar din start ma declar cel mai mare dusman al acestui blog. Veti spune ca sunt mofturi de coconita, ca este vreo strategie de marketing, pr si comunicare pentru a castiga cat mai multi cititori. Probabil, who knows, who cares!
Ideea acestui blog a venit cam cu vreo 30 de minute in urma, cand am cautat pe net traducerea poeziei lui William Blake. Din pacate ptr blogosfera nu am gasit-o, altfel nu mai trebuia sa justific existenta acestui blog.
Si pentru ca sunt fidela dictonului Tot ce am port cu mine, voi posta pe acest blog tot ce am adunat prin mii de caiete, agende, foite si listute. Si cu ocazia aceasta, imi fac curat si prin sertare. Nu este vreo metafora frumos mestesugita, ci doar sertarele vechiului meu birou pe care-l am in grija din clasa a II-a.
Live long and prosper!

The Tiger, William Blake

TIGER, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? What dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Tigru, tigru care arzi

In ai noptii codri-nalti

Cine-a pus a lu vecie

In temuta-ti simetrie?

Pe ce pisc, pe care vai

Arse foc din ochii tai?

Focul, spre ce culme duce?

E vreo mana sa-l apuce?

Inima, puteri de pesteri

Ti-au durat-o? Sau ce mesteri?

Bate numa-si indata

Totu-i fuga-nfricosata

Lant a fost, ciocan, ilau

De-a croit creierul tau?

Cine-a strans, cine-ndrazneste

Spaima ucigasa-n cleste?

Stelele cu lanci arunca

Sau e-n lacrimi bolta-adanca?

Cel ce te-a creat, la fel

A suras creand pe miel?

Tigru, Tigru care arzi

In ai noptii codri-nalti,

Cine-a sagetat vecie

In temuta-ti simetrie?