September, 2018
Mica tiganiada
POSTED IN Music September 21, 2018
Mica tiganiada
Trec tigani pe drum,
Drumu-i plin de fum,
Fumu-i plin de scrum,
Foc ardea!
Vai tigani, tigani,
Gipsies si gitani,
Fara cer si ani,
Trec pe drum!
Tiganie, rai
Rai care erai
Caravan serai
Acadea.
Raiul meu beteag,
De pe alt meleag
Cat imi esti de drag,
Nu stiu cum.Trec tigani prin colb
Colbul este orb,
Orbul e un corb,
Giacardea.
Cade seara-n camp,
Soarele-i scalamb,
Cortul este stramb,
Foc ardea.
Fac tiganii foc,
Focu-i la mijloc,
Fete cu ghioc.
Si cu carti de joc,
Hai, noroc, noroc,
Vino la soroc.Vino sa-ti ghicesc,
Cartile vorbesc
Si nu ne mintesc,
Giacardea.
Fata de caro,
Sub cer indigo,
Sa-ti spun incotro
Foc ardea.Ca multi ani s-au scurs
De cand el s-a dus
Cu un pui de urs
Pe un drum.
Cu belciug si lant,
Fara nici un sfant,
Spre un targ bizant,
Foc ardea.Zaiafet acum,
Lautari duium,
Numai tu nicicum,
Giacardea.
Noaptea de-ar veni,
Pe pamantul gri,
De ne-ar adormi,
Orisicum.
O, dar azi, dar azi,
Ceru-i de atlaz,
Soarele-n extaz.
Ei se duc la pas
Spre un alt popas,
Satra de pripas.
Pana nu-i mai vezi,
Pana nu-i mai crezi
Si din ochi ii pierzi.
Printre ceturi verzi,
Ceturi de livezi,
Vezi ca nu-i mai vezi.Giacardea, cardea,
Gialino mura,
Gialino mura,
Gialino mura,
Gialino mura,
Gialino mura,
Gia mura, mura,
Ce misto…
Phoenix
The scent of a father
POSTED IN essays September 19, 2018
The scent of a father
Since I was a toddler up to the age of 14, when I went to high school, my family called me MITSUKA, especcially my Dad.
I didn’t know why, where from the nick name, sometimes, while growing up, I thought that it may have been an influence from Mitzura Arghezi…But no..
I remember being around four when on Sundays the most waited moment by me was the moment when my father started to shave. That happened in the mornings. I had the honour ( and a very important job !)to assist my father, to hold the instruments, to take care of the hot water and, the most important, to spray on his hands the perfume which he would use to refresh his face after shaving, making funny noises.
That perfume was MITSOUKO, by Guerlain.
After he finished the ritual, fresh and nice, he would reward me with a kiss on the top of my head and a drop of Mitsouko…
Well, in time the memories fade…Mitsouko was replaced by other scents, of my youth, of my other ages ( Cacharel, Trussardi, L’heure bleu)…
By a fortunate accident I met my childhood perfume a few years ago in France…So, MITSOUKO for MITSUKA, the scent of my father, the scent of me growing to become Milena of Cacharel – Anaïs, Anaïs, Maria Magdalena of Trussardi, is once again my scent.
Yet, nothing compares to that time when, being four years old, I was waiting the Sunday morning to get a drop of Mitsouko from my father…
Maria Magdalena Biela
The scent of a birthday
POSTED IN AUTUMN, September September 19, 2018
The scent of a birthday
I want to see you.
Know your voice.
Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
“more”Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi
September
POSTED IN contemporary poetry September 1, 2018
September Sometimes, in the end of September when leaves are crying in the wild wind, lonely on shore I remember you. Life has many ways and there is nothing to say. Running on sand early in the morning I am only waiting The sunrise. Another day will comes and I know that I will love you forever. Anonimous
