I’m nothing but the watcher bid to see; never to touch!
I’m nothing but the child never to live nor tell his tales!
Not yet his time! NOT yet his time…
NOT YET the time…
There is no world where I could hide the gaze of green!
There is no world where I could hide…
You know! It terrifies me that you know; it’s not the time…
NOT YET the time…
So we talk! Words after words flowing to the mid of night…
under the watch of the bitter of the Moon
I’m like an open book, until, each time,
we get to wonder the past;
And once again I gaze into the green…
Wish we could remain in the mid of the night,
shell of a moment!
Si vorbim! Cuvintele curg chiar si dupa ceasurile miezului din noapte…
Still, the wine has an end. And the green dress
remains only a dream – one of the many;
The roses at your neck have the shape of a black orchid
So afraid I will not be able to tell you;
afraid I will never see the red moons,
afraid I will never gaze into the green…
And never the less I’m afraid!
Afraid I will never be able to tell you my dreams.
Having another look; my last! The sky in your eyes…
the ginger hair and the body so thin;
You’ll never know how close the edge …
You’re changing! everyhing changes again; your eyes, the hair, the body
al over again, and again… so many shadows; as many as the dreams!
So peaceful; it’s the quiet before the storm –
but the storm has become me and I am the string that holds
all of you in this useless oath of silence…
Te privesc inca odata. Albastrul ochilor dai,
parul de foc si trupul atat de fin si usor…
The nightmares are back! The ones of forever changing shadows;
they’re calling me back to the sheets of lust…
The table of silence is back! The only words, though,
are the mute sounds of my lonely howls!
You’re nothing but a ghost! The demon that I cannot hate;
Yet I will never love again.
You have become a ghost
Au revenit cosmarurile umbrelor ce se transforma mereu;
Watching you sip from the red wine startles my heart
I do not know if our silence or our inner gaze,
or if our long talks, our game of words
born from the need to tease, do startle me
as if I am a bare child waiting for a gift!
I wonder whether one of us does care about
the talk. We let it flow…
We test each other; how far can we go
Should there be safety words for us!
So peaceful near you, holding your red wine glass;
sitting so close to the edge of this eighteen floor balcony…
More peaceful than my secret inner gardens,
or the bossom of the wildest forest; where
I can always become the freedom craving beast
or the hunter forever in love with his pray..
More peaceful than
the calm sweet silence of a kiss…
http://science.slashdot.org/article.pl?sid=08/03/25/1827200&from=rss
Larry Sessions, a columnist for Earth & Sky, has suggested in his blog that the gamma-ray event whose radiation reached us a few hours before Arthur C. Clarke died, and which occurred 7.5 billion years ago, be named the Clarke Event. The outburst, which produced enough visible light to render it a naked-eye object across half the universe, is officially designated GRB 080319B. What more fitting tribute to Clarke than to associate his name with the greatest bang since the big one? Sessions suggests writing to any astronomers, heads of physics departments, or planetarium operators you know and talking up the proposal.
Azi, soarele a apus pe dos, iubite…
Si noi stateam pe dos imbratisati
pe cand el se stingea; iar petele negre,
de pe trupul tau, imi faceau foame…
Am lasat urme de bocanci, pe sanii lor, azi
Buzele sangerau, iar eu le sarutam
frenetic de fiecare data – mai mult! mai mult!
Eram atat de aproape sa descopar locul acela
in care moartea, viata, gandul si carnea
E ciudat sa incepi o sectiune dintr-un blog cu un articol rau – un articol despre moartea unui om, dar… uite ca s-a intamplat, desi urasc din toata inima lucrul asta.
Marele scriitor SF, de origine englez, Sir Arthur C Clarke a murit in Sri Lanka la varsta de 90 de ani.
Nascut in Somerset, el a devenit faimos in 1968 dupa ce a scris o proza scurta intitulata Santinela (The Sentinel) care apoi a facut parte din filmul aparut in 2001: Odiseea Spatiala, de Stanley Kubrick.
Moartea marelui scriitor a survenit la ora 1:30 dupa un atac cardio – respiratoriu.
Ne relateaza BBC.