Free-online-poker

I set out on my exile into myself,you are my countrywhich I can no longer approach,you are the country where I was bornand learnt to speak,I know only you in the world. I swam in your eyes so oftenreturning to shore with my body all blue,I navigated you so many timeswatching

In no fight, therefore nor in the one fought today by women around the world, as well as by women closer to our soul, Romanian women, to claim their right to social life, have women ever been militant. But their voice may accompany the warlike onset of their hawkish sisters,

You believe in illnessin weariness for good You forget to breatheYou don't move You wait for the pain it comes You watch it intentlyas from the abyss of a halland it looks for your eyes The room lurkingsighs in your stead You feel drowsyyou rise you riseyou slowly

The blue bird, the blessed birdWas making its nest in my heart. Little by little were slainBoth my heart and the blue bird.  Who is the cruel hunterWho did this to you, my heart?Who put you in the tombWith the blessed bird? by Elena Văcărescu (1866-1947)

The flood resumed and I was on a boat with himhe took along seven pairs of each animaland sailed at willtoward another promised landbut I knew he was not Noah. A nauseating smell of dead animals engulfed him constantlyand more fearful than a sparrowfacing a catI prayed

Without loving you, I still love your voice,Without tearing me apart, your look touches me. My heart is more alive when I behold you,I dream of the flaws of your beautiful mouth.   My books, I wrote them for you, young men, And I left therein Like children biting into

My illness is a silk flag I'm wrapping around their necks strangling them measuredly but which is the illness, which is the passion, and which is the madness?Neither do I know them too well only a violent gesture made one evening in winter, a shiver of my body when

“Between little Adela and her ‘maestro’, the fortyish Emil Codrescu, was born more than the ordinary love between a child and a full-grown man. The seeds of subjugating passion and resigned worship are sowed, above parental love, and last until Adela’s teens, when

Even if human society has always been haunted by an almost imperceptible misogynic fluid, the selfsame society has enabled the advent of remarkable women in every walk of life, from politics to business to culture or science, from Sappho to Marie Curie, from Clara Schumann

The first woman characters of the modern Romanian literature were anything but womanly. The Romanian romantic theatre and the historical romances of the nineteenth century abound in strong-willed, ambitious princesses, exasperated by the lack of guts in their male partners.

You are so gentle! In times of strong faith, I know that people adored the Blessed Virgin; she would let the lame, the blind, the lepers, the paralytic, all the unfortunate people approach her robe. But you are still better and, with every new revelation of your great, infinite

Very few people think: very few in comparison with the nation. And which is more, as these thinkers are kept far away from the lofty secrets of politics, from the lofty secrets of science and research, and from the lofty secrets of the police and of those who secretly run