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Vinul amar al înfrângerii este mai dulce dacă îl bei din cupa speranței.

quote by Marius Alexandru
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Tercius

Incipit Liber Quartus

Dicunt accidiam fore nutricem viciorum,
Torpet et in cunctis tarda que lenta bonis:
Que fieri possent hodie transfert piger in cras,
Furatoque prius ostia claudit equo.
Poscenti tardo negat emolumenta Cupido,
Set Venus in celeri ludit amore viri.

Upon the vices to procede
After the cause of mannes dede,
The ferste point of Slowthe I calle
Lachesce, and is the chief of alle,
And hath this propreliche of kinde,
To leven alle thing behinde.
Of that he mihte do now hier
He tarieth al the longe yer,
And everemore he seith, 'Tomorwe';
And so he wol his time borwe,
And wissheth after 'God me sende,'
That whan he weneth have an ende,
Thanne is he ferthest to beginne.
Thus bringth he many a meschief inne
Unwar, til that he be meschieved,
And may noght thanne be relieved.
And riht so nowther mor ne lesse
It stant of love and of lachesce:
Som time he slowtheth in a day
That he nevere after gete mai.
Now, Sone, as of this ilke thing,
If thou have eny knowleching,
That thou to love hast don er this,
Tell on. Mi goode fader, yis.
As of lachesce I am beknowe
That I mai stonde upon his rowe,
As I that am clad of his suite:
For whanne I thoghte mi poursuite
To make, and therto sette a day
To speke unto the swete May,
Lachesce bad abide yit,
And bar on hond it was no wit
Ne time forto speke as tho.
Thus with his tales to and fro
Mi time in tariinge he drowh:
Whan ther was time good ynowh,
He seide, 'An other time is bettre;
Thou schalt mowe senden hire a lettre,
And per cas wryte more plein
Than thou be Mowthe durstest sein.'

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Quintus

Incipit Liber Sextus

Est gula, que nostrum maculavit prima parentem
Ex vetito pomo, quo dolet omnis homo
Hec agit, ut corpus anime contraria spirat,
Quo caro fit crassa, spiritus atque macer.
Intus et exterius si que virtutis habentur,
Potibus ebrietas conviciata ruit.
Mersa sopore labis, que Bachus inebriat hospes,
Indignata Venus oscula raro premit.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------

The grete Senne original,
Which every man in general
Upon his berthe hath envenymed,
In Paradis it was mystymed:
Whan Adam of thilke Appel bot,
His swete morscel was to hot,
Which dedly made the mankinde.
And in the bokes as I finde,
This vice, which so out of rule
Hath sette ous alle, is cleped Gule;
Of which the branches ben so grete,
That of hem alle I wol noght trete,
Bot only as touchende of tuo
I thenke speke and of no mo;
Wherof the ferste is Dronkeschipe,
Which berth the cuppe felaschipe.
Ful many a wonder doth this vice,
He can make of a wisman nyce,
And of a fool, that him schal seme
That he can al the lawe deme,
And yiven every juggement
Which longeth to the firmament
Bothe of the sterre and of the mone;
And thus he makth a gret clerk sone
Of him that is a lewed man.
Ther is nothing which he ne can,
Whil he hath Dronkeschipe on honde,
He knowth the See, he knowth the stronde,
He is a noble man of armes,
And yit no strengthe is in his armes:
Ther he was strong ynouh tofore,
With Dronkeschipe it is forlore,
And al is changed his astat,
And wext anon so fieble and mat,
That he mai nouther go ne come,
Bot al togedre him is benome
The pouer bothe of hond and fot,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Secundus

Incipit Liber Tercius

Ira suis paribus est par furiis Acherontis,
Quo furor ad tempus nil pietatis habet.
Ira malencolicos animos perturbat, vt equo
Iure sui pondus nulla statera tenet.
Omnibus in causis grauat Ira, set inter amantes,
Illa magis facili sorte grauamen agit:
Est vbi vir discors leuiterque repugnat amori,
Sepe loco ludi fletus ad ora venit.

----------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------

If thou the vices lest to knowe,
Mi Sone, it hath noght ben unknowe,
Fro ferst that men the swerdes grounde,
That ther nis on upon this grounde,
A vice forein fro the lawe,
Wherof that many a good felawe
Hath be distraght be sodein chance;
And yit to kinde no plesance
It doth, bot wher he most achieveth
His pourpos, most to kinde he grieveth,
As he which out of conscience
Is enemy to pacience:
And is be name on of the Sevene,
Which ofte hath set this world unevene,
And cleped is the cruel Ire,
Whos herte is everemore on fyre
To speke amis and to do bothe,
For his servantz ben evere wrothe.
Mi goode fader, tell me this:
What thing is Ire? Sone, it is
That in oure englissh Wrathe is hote,
Which hath hise wordes ay so hote,
That all a mannes pacience
Is fyred of the violence.
For he with him hath evere fyve
Servantz that helpen him to stryve:
The ferst of hem Malencolie
Is cleped, which in compaignie
An hundred times in an houre
Wol as an angri beste loure,
And noman wot the cause why.
Mi Sone, schrif thee now forthi:
Hast thou be Malencolien?
Ye, fader, be seint Julien,
Bot I untrewe wordes use,
I mai me noght therof excuse:
And al makth love, wel I wot,

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poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Primus

Incipit Liber Secundus

Inuidie culpa magis est attrita dolore,
Nam sua mens nullo tempore leta manet:
Quo gaudent alii, dolet ille, nec vnus amicus
Est, cui de puro comoda velle facit.
Proximitatis honor sua corda veretur, et omnis
Est sibi leticia sic aliena dolor.
Hoc etenim vicium quam sepe repugnat amanti,
Non sibi, set reliquis, dum fauet ipsa Venus.
Est amor ex proprio motu fantasticus, et que
Gaudia fert alius, credit obesse sibi.

Now after Pride the secounde
Ther is, which many a woful stounde
Towardes othre berth aboute
Withinne himself and noght withoute;
For in his thoght he brenneth evere,
Whan that he wot an other levere
Or more vertuous than he,
Which passeth him in his degre;
Therof he takth his maladie:
That vice is cleped hot Envie.
Forthi, my Sone, if it be so
Thou art or hast ben on of tho,
As forto speke in loves cas,
If evere yit thin herte was
Sek of an other mannes hele?
So god avance my querele,
Mi fader, ye, a thousend sithe:
Whanne I have sen an other blithe
Of love, and hadde a goodly chiere,
Ethna, which brenneth yer be yere,
Was thanne noght so hot as I
Of thilke Sor which prively
Min hertes thoght withinne brenneth.
The Schip which on the wawes renneth,
And is forstormed and forblowe,
Is noght more peined for a throwe
Than I am thanne, whanne I se
An other which that passeth me
In that fortune of loves yifte.
Bot, fader, this I telle in schrifte,
That is nowher bot in o place;
For who that lese or finde grace
In other stede, it mai noght grieve:
Bot this ye mai riht wel believe,
Toward mi ladi that I serve,
Thogh that I wiste forto sterve,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Septimus

Incipit Liber Octavus

Que favet ad vicium vetus hec modo regula confert,
Nec novus e contra qui docet ordo placet.
Cecus amor dudum nondum sua lumina cepit,
Quo Venus impositum devia fallit iter.

------------------------------------ -----------------------------------------------
The myhti god, which unbegunne
Stant of himself and hath begunne
Alle othre thinges at his wille,
The hevene him liste to fulfille
Of alle joie, where as he
Sit inthronized in his See,
And hath hise Angles him to serve,
Suche as him liketh to preserve,
So that thei mowe noght forsueie:
Bot Lucifer he putte aweie,
With al the route apostazied
Of hem that ben to him allied,
Whiche out of hevene into the helle
From Angles into fendes felle;
Wher that ther is no joie of lyht,
Bot more derk than eny nyht
The peine schal ben endeles;
And yit of fyres natheles
Ther is plente, bot thei ben blake,
Wherof no syhte mai be take.
Thus whan the thinges ben befalle,
That Luciferes court was falle
Wher dedly Pride hem hath conveied,
Anon forthwith it was pourveied
Thurgh him which alle thinges may;
He made Adam the sexte day
In Paradis, and to his make
Him liketh Eve also to make,
And bad hem cresce and multiplie.
For of the mannes Progenie,
Which of the womman schal be bore,
The nombre of Angles which was lore,
Whan thei out fro the blisse felle,
He thoghte to restore, and felle
In hevene thilke holy place
Which stod tho voide upon his grace.
Bot as it is wel wiste and knowe,
Adam and Eve bot a throwe,
So as it scholde of hem betyde,
In Paradis at thilke tyde
Ne duelten, and the cause why,
Write in the bok of Genesi,

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poem by John Gower
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Confessio Amantis. Explicit Prologus

Incipit Liber Primus

Naturatus amor nature legibus orbem
Subdit, et vnanimes concitat esse feras:
Huius enim mundi Princeps amor esse videtur,
Cuius eget diues, pauper et omnis ope.
Sunt in agone pares amor et fortuna, que cecas
Plebis ad insidias vertit vterque rotas.
Est amor egra salus, vexata quies, pius error,
Bellica pax, vulnus dulce, suaue malum.

I may noght strecche up to the hevene
Min hand, ne setten al in evene
This world, which evere is in balance:
It stant noght in my sufficance
So grete thinges to compasse,
Bot I mot lete it overpasse
And treten upon othre thinges.
Forthi the Stile of my writinges
Fro this day forth I thenke change
And speke of thing is noght so strange,
Which every kinde hath upon honde,
And wherupon the world mot stonde,
And hath don sithen it began,
And schal whil ther is any man;
And that is love, of which I mene
To trete, as after schal be sene.
In which ther can noman him reule,
For loves lawe is out of reule,
That of tomoche or of tolite
Welnyh is every man to wyte,
And natheles ther is noman
In al this world so wys, that can
Of love tempre the mesure,
Bot as it falth in aventure:
For wit ne strengthe may noght helpe,
And he which elles wolde him yelpe
Is rathest throwen under fote,
Ther can no wiht therof do bote.
For yet was nevere such covine,
That couthe ordeine a medicine
To thing which god in lawe of kinde
Hath set, for ther may noman finde
The rihte salve of such a Sor.
It hath and schal ben everemor
That love is maister wher he wile,
Ther can no lif make other skile;
For wher as evere him lest to sette,
Ther is no myht which him may lette.
Bot what schal fallen ate laste,

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Non Puoi Lasciarmi Cos (Quit Playing Games)

Guardo dentro me e so gi
cosa rester di noi
quello che vorrei sei tu
ma niente ti riporta qui.
Che cosa non farei per te
ma il tempo gioca contro me
quanto ti vorrei non sai oh no.
Non puoi lasciarmi cos, lo sai o no
(non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos con me
(non puoi giocare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non farlo mai.
Ritornerai lo so
mi vedo gi vicino a te
dammi un segno che tu ci sei
io voglio immaginarti qui.
Che cosa non farei per te
ma il tempo gioca contro me
quanto ti vorrei non sai oh no.
... lo sai che.
Non puoi lasciarmi cos, lo sai o no
(non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos con me
(non puoi giocare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non farlo mai.
Se ci credi c' ancora un domani per noi
possiamo ancora stare insieme.
Se ci tieni
star qui con te
sarai qui con me.
Ritornerai lo so
mi vedo gi vicino a te
dammi un segno che tu ci sei
io voglio immaginarti qui.
Che cosa non farei per te
ma il tempo gioca contro me
quanto ti vorrei non sai oh no.
Non puoi lasciarmi cos, lo sai o no
(non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos con me
(non puoi giocare mai non mi lasciare mai)
non puoi giocare cos non puoi lo sai non puoi.

song performed by Backstreet Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gunga Din

You may talk o' gin and beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,
An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.
Now in Injia's sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was "Din! Din! Din!
You limpin' lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din!
Hi! slippery ~hitherao~!
Water, get it! ~Panee lao~! [Bring water swiftly.]
You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din."

The uniform 'e wore
Was nothin' much before,
An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind,
For a piece o' twisty rag
An' a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment 'e could find.
When the sweatin' troop-train lay
In a sidin' through the day,
Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl,
We shouted "Harry By!" [Mr. Atkins's equivalent for "O brother."]
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all.
It was "Din! Din! Din!
You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been?
You put some ~juldee~ in it [Be quick.]
Or I'll ~marrow~ you this minute [Hit you.]
If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!"

'E would dot an' carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your bloomin' nut,
'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear.
With 'is ~mussick~ on 'is back, [Water-skin.]
'E would skip with our attack,
An' watch us till the bugles made "Retire",
An' for all 'is dirty 'ide
'E was white, clear white, inside
When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was "Din! Din! Din!"
With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green.

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Por Amarte

Amar es una cosa especial
No es un viene y va
Amar solo te pasa una vez
Pero de verdad
Amar es cuando solo piensas
En donde estara
Amar es como un milagro
Dificil de explicar
Amar es cuando la proteges
De la lluvia y el viento
Amar es cuando tu la abrazas
Y te olvidas del tiempo
Amar es cuando tu la ves
Y te pones nervioso
Amar es cuando te das cuenta
De tus sentimientos
Por amarte robaria una estrella
Y te la regalaria
Por amarte cruzaria los mares
Solo por abrazarte
Por amarte juntaria la lluvia
Con el fuego
Por amarte daria la vida
Solo por besarte
Amar es cuando escribes su nombre
Por todo el cielo
Amar es cuando solo suenas
Con llevartela lejos
Amar es cuando tu la ves
Y se queda en tus ojos
Amar es cuando tu te das cuenta
Ella lo es todo
Por amarte robaria una estrella
Y te la regalaria
Por amarte cruzaria los mares
Solo por abrazarte
Por amarte juntaria la lluvia
Con el fuego
Por amarte daria la vida
Solo por besarte

song performed by Enrique Iglesias
Added by Lucian Velea
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De ziua ta

Vino, si nu te teme a ma omori, iubito
nu mai mi-e frica de nimic, acum ca am pierdut aproape tot ce am castigat vreodata.
Nu te sfii, taie adanc si nu te juca,
infige cat poti de mult, in inima, si ai grija sa nu mai misc, atunci cand il scoti.
Nu, nu e nevoie sa ma legi, sau sa-mi pui perna peste gura
o sa fiu cumine, nu o sa plang, daca vrei pot chiar sa te ajut
pot sa te mint, sa-ti spun ca nu te-am iubit niciodata, ca nu am vrut decat sa ma culc, si nu sa dorm, cu tine.
Invita-ti si 'prietenii', sa vada cum scapi, cum iti iei zborul, cum faci viitorul mai simplu, strivind trecutul,
si lasa-i sa aplaude, si sa rada inca o data, sa se simta bine si sa iti spuna ca au avut dreptate, cand iti reprosau
ca ai ales monstrul cu inima,
in locul printului,
ce conteaza ca printul e putred pe dinauntru.
Macar atata sa iti ofer de ziua ta, daca aur nu am, sa-ti cumpar cadouri scumpe
sau sa vin cu tine, acolo unde te duci, in calatoriile tale.
Iti ofer o minte mai goala, o inima mai goala, fara mine in nici una din ele
si poate si sentimentul nobil ca ai inceput o noua viata, mai buna, mai simpla, fara o grija in plus.
Nu e mai bine asa?
(cum sa fim doar amici, cand mi-ai aratat ca doar viata mea, e mult prea ieftina pentru un sarut de-al tau, iar elena, duca-se dracu, chiar crezi ca o vroiam pe ea in locul tau)

poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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Partir, Pensar e Amar!

Partir para....
Pensar em......
Amar! ! ! Alguém!
Verbo poderoso esse;
não precisa de preposição.
Amar! Pronto.
Sem alguém, também pode.
Dizem que com alguém é melhor
Mas pode ser sozinho!
Ele cumpre bem o seu papel!
AMAR, só conjuga quando
Amar Alguém!
Não se pode amar aquilo, isso, esse......
Não se pode amar Meu, Teu, Nosso......
Só se pode AMAR Você! em Você, para Você
Aí pode!
Aí, combina!

Ciumento esse Verbo!

Mas tem também outro verbo.
Que vem logo após O AMAR!
Pensar!
Pensar requer.... algo, aquilo, no Meu, no Teu, no Nosso!
Tem também Pensar.... no Dos Outros!
Pensar tem todos os Quereres!

Nesse momento! Nessa conjugação!
O Amar já não suporta tanta preposição

Exigente esse verbo!

Então vem o

PARTIR!
Parto para longe de ti!
Porque começastes conjugando O Amar

e terminastes com O Pensar!

Doloroso esse verbo!

poem by Mirna Morgan
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Yoda Chant

Da din din da
Da din din da
Na tin tin na
Da din din da
Da din din da
Da din din da
Na tin tin na
Da din din da
Dit dit da
Terrigada dit na giggiteeta cut
Teeta guddygayna da
Terrigada dit na giggiteeta cut
Teeta guddygayna da
Terrigada dit na giggiteeta cut
Teeta guddygayna
Da din din da
Da din din da
Na tin tin na
Da din din da
Boom shakalakalaka
Boom shakalakalaka
Nyaaaaaaaaaa-ahh boom
Homina
Homina
Homina homina homina
Ba ba oom mow mow
Ba ba oom mow ma mow
Ba ba oom mow mow
Ba ba oom mow ma mow
Mmmmmmmmmm doggie (turn neck to left, make cracking sound)
Heh he heh
La la la, nice lady
Cutta cutta cutta cutta
Cuttyta nogayna noggy teeta cuddadit
Naw nay daw
Cuttyta nogayna noggy teeta cuddadit
Naw nay daw
Cuttyta nogayna noggy teeta cuddadit
Naw nay
Da da cuddagudda dit
Naw cuh-ta
Da cuddagudda dit
Naw cuh-ta
Da cuddagudda dit
Naw cuh-ta
Da da cuddagudda dit
Naw cuh-ta da

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Where Are the Birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei

‘The skies are empty and grey at dawn,
They’re empty and brown at noon,
Where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
Deep in the afternoon?
Even at dusk when the air is still
Or the cool breath heaves from the sea,
I wait for the beat of wings then, Bei Bei
Rushing to comfort me.’

‘The birds were once when the paddy fields
Ran down by the river tides,
When the sky was blue and the air was clean
And the trees reached up to the stars.
The birds were here when the skies were clear
No buildings blocked the view...’
‘But where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei
Why have they gone from you? ’

‘They left when the smog came rolling in
And the insects died on the ground,
When the grass turned white and the acid rain
Caused all the trees to drown.
They left when the river turned yellow mud
And the fields died under the road,
When men built towers of thirty floors,
They left the town in droves.’

The skies are empty and grey at dawn,
They’re empty and brown at noon.
‘The birds of Wenzhou took their nests
And travelled to old Hangzhou.
They went to live by a wondrous lake
That tales will tell, is blue...’
‘Where are the birds of Wenzhou, Bei Bei...
Have they forsaken you? ’

8 November 2005

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Yo Te Voy A Amar

cuando sientas tristeza que no puedas calmar
Cuando haya un vacio que no puedas llenar
Te abrazare, te hare olvidar
Lo que te hizo sufrir, no vas a caer mientras este junto a mi.
(chorus)
Si siente un frio tu corazon
Sere tu abrigo, tu ilusion
Hasta ya no respirar,
Yo te voy a amar, yo te voy a amar.
Yo siempre te he amado, y amor yo estare
Por siempre a tu lado nunca me alejare
Prometo mi amor
Te juro ante dios (te juro ante dios)
Nunca te voy a faltar
Tu corazon no volvera a llorar.
Si siente un frio (siente un frio) tu corazon (tu corazon)
Sere tu abrigo, tu ilusion
Hasta ya no respirar
Yo te voy a amar, yo te voy a amar.
Sigo muriendo por ti (sigo muriendo por ti)
Yo te quiero asi
Sin tu amor en mi vida, mi vida
No se como podre yo vivir.
Si siente un frio tu corazon (si siente un frio tu corazon)
Sere tu abrigo, tu ilusion (sere tu abrigo, tu ilusion)
Hasta ya no respirar, yo te voy a amar.
Y cada dia yo vivire
Intentando como te voy a querer
Hasta ya no respirar, yo te voy a amar.
Hasta ya no respirar
Yo te voy a amar
Yo te voy a amar.

song performed by N Sync
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tu nu vei afla

Tu, cea pe care o iubesc cel mai mult dintre toate fetele din lumea asta mizerabila,
cea pentru care simt ceea ce nu am simtit niciodata pentru nimeni
tu nu ma iubesti pe mine, tu nu te gandesti la mine, si nu iti pasa de mine,
asa cum mie imi pasa de tine, asa cum eu te iubesc pe tine.
Inca te mai gasesc, dar nu pot sa te mai ating, sau sa te sarut.
Nu mai pot nici macar sa te iubesc in secret
cum o faceam inainte sa fim impreuna
nu mai am voie, pentru ca spre deosebire de atunci
acum, tu nu mai vrei ca eu sa te iubesc
sa te pretuiesc
sa-ti trimit mesaje
tu nu mai ai nevoie sa ma auzi rostind
acele cuvinte care pentru tine sunt atat de greu de rostit, sau simtit.
Tu nu crezi ca as fi putut
dar eu inca vreau
sa-mi ucid visele pentru tine,
sa plec oriunde, pentru a ramane cu tine
sa ard in iad pentru inca un sarut
acel sarut, care pentru tine nu mai inseamna nimic.
As vrea sa iti mai spun toate aceste lucruri,
dar o sa incerc sa nu o fac
sa nu fiu si mai ridicol in ochii tai (verzi) .

poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
Added by Poetry Lover
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Vita Spericolata

Voglio una vita maleducata
di quelle vite fatte, fatte cos
voglio una vita che se ne frega
che se ne frega di tutto s
voglio una vita che non mai tardi
di quelle che non dormono mai
voglio una vita di quelle che non si sa mai.
E poi ci troveremo come le stars
a bere del whisky al Roxy bar
o forse non c'incontreremo mai
ognuno a rincorrere i suoi guai
ognuno col suo viaggio
ognuno diverso
e ognuno in fondo perso
dentro i fatti suoi!
Voglio una vita spericolata
voglio una vita come quelle dei film
voglio una vita esagerata
voglio una vita come Steve Mc Queen
voglio una vita che non mai tardi
di quelle che non dormi mai
voglio una vita, la voglio piena di guai!!!
E poi ci troveremo come le stars
a bere del whisky al Roxy bar
oppure non c'incontreremo mai
ognuno a rincorrere i suoi guai
ognuno col suo viaggio
ognuno diverso
e ognuno in fondo perso
dentro i fatti suoi!
Voglio una vita maleducata
di quelle vite fatte cos
voglio una vita che se ne frega
che se ne frega di tutto s!!!
Voglio una vita che non mai tardi
di quelle che non dormi mai
voglio una vita
vedrai che vita vedrai!!!
E poi ci troveremo come le star
a bere del whisky al Roxy bar
o forse non c'incontreremo mai
ognuno a rincorrere i suoi guai!!!
Voglio una vita spericolata
voglio una vita come quelle dei film
voglio una vita esagerata
voglio una vita come Steve Mc Queen
Voglio una vita maleducata
di quelle vite fatte cos
voglio una vita che se ne frega
che se ne frega di tutto s!!!

song performed by Vasco Rossi
Added by Lucian Velea
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Saahil kay kinare...(A poem written in URDU)

Meray dil ki dharkan mai sirf tum hi rehtay ho
Pyar tum he say karti hoon buss tum he meray ho
Wo betay dinoon ki yaaden aur badal ka garajna tha
Wo saahil kay kinarey kishty mai kesa milna tha
Leher-oon ki thephair aa kar jab kishty sey takrati thee
Daar ka mai teray seenay say kesay lag jati thee
Do praim-ee aik jaan chup chup kay miltay thay
Kahan geye wo din…kitnay achay lagtay thay
Seepiyan chuntay gana ghatay saahil kay kinaray hum
Aik ddo-jay kay pyar mai ho jatay te hum gum
Tujh mai samah kay mai ney pya do janam-oon ka pyar
Aab Kha-gaye wo din aur kha-geye wo raat
Barsaat kay mosam mai tery yaad sa-ta-tee hai
Betay dinoon ki yaad mujh ko tar-patee hai
Ab na rehe wo kishty aur bun kaya aik khawab
Saahil kay kinare mai akalie kar-ee-hoon aaj.

poem by Meena Mustafa
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Confessio Amantis. Prologus

Torpor, ebes sensus, scola parua labor minimusque
Causant quo minimus ipse minora canam:
Qua tamen Engisti lingua canit Insula Bruti
Anglica Carmente metra iuuante loquar.
Ossibus ergo carens que conterit ossa loquelis
Absit, et interpres stet procul oro malus.

Of hem that writen ous tofore
The bokes duelle, and we therfore
Ben tawht of that was write tho:
Forthi good is that we also
In oure tyme among ous hiere
Do wryte of newe som matiere,
Essampled of these olde wyse
So that it myhte in such a wyse,
Whan we ben dede and elleswhere,
Beleve to the worldes eere
In tyme comende after this.
Bot for men sein, and soth it is,
That who that al of wisdom writ
It dulleth ofte a mannes wit
To him that schal it aldai rede,
For thilke cause, if that ye rede,
I wolde go the middel weie
And wryte a bok betwen the tweie,
Somwhat of lust, somewhat of lore,
That of the lasse or of the more
Som man mai lyke of that I wryte:
And for that fewe men endite
In oure englissh, I thenke make
A bok for Engelondes sake,
The yer sextenthe of kyng Richard.
What schal befalle hierafterward
God wot, for now upon this tyde
Men se the world on every syde
In sondry wyse so diversed,
That it welnyh stant al reversed,
As forto speke of tyme ago.
The cause whi it changeth so
It needeth nought to specifie,
The thing so open is at ije
That every man it mai beholde:
And natheles be daies olde,
Whan that the bokes weren levere,
Wrytinge was beloved evere
Of hem that weren vertuous;
For hier in erthe amonges ous,
If noman write hou that it stode,
The pris of hem that weren goode

[...] Read more

poem by John Gower
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Chanson (Proscrit, regarde les roses...)

Proscrit, regarde les roses ;
Mai joyeux, de l'aube en pleurs
Les reçoit toutes écloses ;
Proscrit, regarde les fleurs.

- Je pense
Aux roses que je semai.
Le mois de mai sans la France,
Ce n'est pas le mois de mai.

Proscrit, regarde les tombes ;
Mai, qui rit aux cieux si beaux,
Sous les baisers des colombes
Fait palpiter les tombeaux.

- Je pense
Aux yeux chers que je fermai.
Le mois de mai sans la France,
Ce n'est pas le mois de mai.

Proscrit, regarde les branches,
Les branches où sont les nids ;
Mai les remplit d'ailes blanches
Et de soupirs infinis.

- Je pense
Aux nids charmants où j'aimai.
Le mois de mai sans la France,
Ce n'est pas le mois de mai.

poem by Victor Hugo
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Montuno

yele y vvelo y baila este montuno,
Bien (coro)
Este ritmo agita poco a poco
Tiene pica pica y tambin saoco
Por qu sera
Porque ha nacido del vientre del caribe
Y el mundo recibe
Todo el calor que trae, el son montuno
yelo y vvelo y baila este montuno
Bien (coro)
Hace maravillas en la gente
De jaleo y fiesta es la fuente
Por qu sera
Porque creci en el trpico candente
De amores ardientes
Y es el calor que trae, el son montuno
yelo y vvelo y baila este montuno
Bien (coro)
No tiene fronteras (coro) es libre
Ni tiene banderas (coro) de todos
Es tumbao de calle y de hermandad
Es de ron y azcar (coro) melao
De caa y carreta (coro) bragao
Es sudor de pueblo hecho cancin
yelo y vvelo y baila este montuno, bien
yelo y vvelo y baila este montuno, bien
yelo y vvelo y baila este montuno, bien
Tiene yunfa y tiene saoco tambin
Calor y sabor de mi tierra
Ay, qu brbaro, mi montuno
A bailar, a gozar
Ay, ay, ay, qu bueno esta tumbao
yelo, bilalo
Qu rico, qu sabroso este gajeo del monte
Hace maravillas en la gente
Todos bailan con, el montuno
Montuno, el montuno
Con el montuno me voy
Me voy
(translation:)
Hear it, live it and dance this montuno well
Hear it, live it and dance this montuno well
This rhythm picks up little by little
It has pica pica and also saoco
(your guess is as good as mine)
Why is that ? ?
cause it was born in the womb of the carribean
And the world receives
All the warmth it brings..the son montuno
Hear it, live it and dance this montuno well

[...] Read more

song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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