medeaeisuoimandaranci

The Spell

annamusette — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 20:51:04 +0000

Luna, luna,
Vargoluna,
Tu esti mandra si frumoasa,
Tu esti a noptii craiasa.
Tu cal ai,
Dar frau nu ai,
Na-ti tie braul meu
Si fa frau calului tau,
Sa mergi dupa ursitul meu.
De a fi de-aici din sat,
de-a fi din celalalt sat,
De-a fi dintr-al treilea sat,
Sau dintr-al noulea sat,
Nu-i da stare
Si-alinare!
El sa nu poata dormi,
Sa nu poata odihni,
Pan’ la mine n-a veni.

**********************************************************************************************************

Tu, sare mare,
Tu, miere mare,

Eu te incinz,
Te aprinz,
Tu sa te incinzi,
Sa te aprinzi,
Cum te incinzi,
Cum te aprinzi,
Asa sa se-ncinga
Asa sa se-aprinda
El de chipul meu,
De trupul meu.
Sa nu-i dai stare a sta,
Sa-l incinzi,
Sa-l aprinzi,
De chipul meu,
De trupul meu,
Cum se incinge
Vatra de foc,
Focul de vatra,
Asa sa se-ncinga
Inima-n el
De chipul meu,
De trupul meu,
Cum plesneste sarea,
Cum se-ncinge mierea,
Asa sa se-ncinga
Asa sa se aprinza
Asa sa plesneasca,
Sa nu se staveasca
Inima-n el
De chipul meu,
De trupul meu,
Nici in lung,
Nici in lat,
Nici la noi in sat,
Sa nu-i stare a sta,
Nici mancare a manca,
Nici hodin-a hodini,
Nici somn a durmi,
Pana la mine a veni.

The Sfinx

annamusette — Sun, 18 Sep 2011 19:17:30 +0000

In a dim corner of my room for longer than
my fancy thinks
A beautiful and silent Sphinx has watched me
through the shifting gloom.

Inviolate and immobile she does not rise she
does not stir
For silver moons are naught to her and naught
to her the suns that reel.

Red follows grey across the air, the waves of
moonlight ebb and flow
But with the Dawn she does not go and in the
night-time she is there.

Dawn follows Dawn and Nights grow old and
all the while this curious cat
Lies couching on the Chinese mat with eyes of
satin rimmed with gold.

Upon the mat she lies and leers and on the
tawny throat of her
Flutters the soft and silky fur or ripples to her
pointed ears.

Come forth, my lovely seneschal! so somnolent,
so statuesque!
Come forth you exquisite grotesque! half woman
and half animal!

Come forth my lovely languorous Sphinx! and
put your head upon my knee!
And let me stroke your throat and see your
body spotted like the Lynx!

And let me touch those curving claws of yellow
ivory and grasp
The tail that like a monstrous Asp coils round
your heavy velvet paws!
………………………………………………..

Lift up your large black satin eyes which are
like cushions where one sinks!
Fawn at my feet, fantastic Sphinx! and sing me
all your memories!

Who were your lovers? who were they
who wrestled for you in the dust?
Which was the vessel of your Lust? What
Leman had you, every day?

……………………………..

Why are you tarrying? Get hence! I
weary of your sullen ways,
I weary of your steadfast gaze, your somnolent
magnificence.

Your horrible and heavy breath makes the light
flicker in the lamp,
And on my brow I feel the damp and dreadful
dews of night and death.

Your eyes are like fantastic moons that shiver
in some stagnant lake,
Your tongue is like a scarlet snake that dances
to fantastic tunes,

Your pulse makes poisonous melodies, and your
black throat is like the hole
Left by some torch or burning coal on Saracenic
tapestries.

Away! The sulphur-coloured stars are hurrying
through the Western gate!
Away! Or it may be too late to climb their silent
silver cars!

See, the dawn shivers round the grey gilt-dialled
towers, and the rain
Streams down each diamonded pane and blurs
with tears the wannish day.

What snake-tressed fury fresh from Hell, with
uncouth gestures and unclean,
Stole from the poppy-drowsy queen and led you
to a student’s cell?

What songless tongueless ghost of sin crept
through the curtains of the night,
And saw my taper burning bright, and knocked,
and bade you enter in?
Get hence, you loathsome mystery! Hideous
animal, get hence!

You wake in me each bestial sense, you make me
what I would not be.

You make my creed a barren sham, you wake
foul dreams of sensual life….

Oscar Wilde -The Sfinx (fragments)

BEAUTY….

annamusette — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 20:07:17 +0000

Beauty – be not caused – It Is -
Chase it, and it ceases -
Chase it not, and it abides -

Overtake the Creases

In the Meadow – when the Wind
Runs his fingers thro’ it -
Deity will see to it
That You never do it.

Emily Dickinson

You never told me goodbye :(

annamusette — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 08:16:52 +0000

Fullmoon

annamusette — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 20:08:17 +0000

Dedicat unei persoane speciale ( care sigur o sa iasa in noaptea asta la vanat – sper sa nu dam nas in nas si sa ne luptam pentru cina )

Dimineti de august

annamusette — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:16:31 +0000

Si un cantecel de seara

Furtuna

annamusette — Sat, 31 Jul 2010 18:28:20 +0000

Dupa o luna fierbinte, cu temperaturi de 40 de grade, aseara am avut parte, in sfarsit, de un pic de racoare.
Da nu asa, o racorire normala, ci o furtuna cumplita, pornita din senin, cu tunete, fulgere si ploaie torentiala, pe care, spre uimirea mea, am reusit sa o fotografiez. Norocul…..( nu zic cui)

P.S. pt C: Atmosfera e perfecta, mai lipseste personajul

La limita

annamusette — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 20:33:11 +0000

“Actorul are posibilitatea de a rasfrange punctele de reper si de sprijin ale “partiturii” fie intr-un orizont accesibil, lesne de realizat al fiintei lui, fie intr-unul utopic, aparent inaccesibil, dar cu atat mai solicitant, mai imperios. In primul caz, elaborarea securizata conduce la imitatia de sine a histrionului, la un joc lipsit de miza, de consecinte palpabile si, deci, profund dezangajant; in cel de-al doilea, pariul actorului invoca riscul, tensiunea, pericolul intim si, prin urmare, o stare de criza ce nu se va lasa solutionata decat printr-un act de transcendere radicala, adica prin intermediul performantelor de ordin psihic si fizic.

Interpretul isi joaca seara de seara centura de “campion al umanului”; performanta e conditia lui obisnuita. Atata vreme cat exigentele acesteia nu il parasesc, jumatatile de masura nu se insinueaza in munca sa.

El nu numai ca se antreneaza sustinut in vederea ivirii situatiei – limita, dar o si provoaca deliberat intr-insul si o personalizeaza, spre a se infatisa spectatorilor ca protagonist al unei exemplare inclestari – al vesnicei lupte cu ingerul – care, aici, este si ramane limita, acea limita dincolo de abolirea careia nu poti sti ce te asteapta:

iluminarea sau, dimpotriva, intunecarea.”

Mihai Maniutiu “Cercul de aur”

Amor Porteño

annamusette — Mon, 12 Jul 2010 05:30:07 +0000

The Islander

annamusette — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 13:19:33 +0000