The dawns are deepening in the bowery distance of time.
Your face is a patter between roads, filled by shadows... a labyrinth, a glade , tamed by the soft darkness of the woods.
And our love is changing. The years are encircling it. The ruthless light is settling. From the depths of the woods, the tearing horn of parting is calling.
By Anna
The art of love begins with ourselfs. The first step consists of becoming conciuous, of understanding the right truth due to which every man dreams his own dream. Who undertands that part, becomes responsible for his/her own share of the relationship, for himself / herself. Knowing that he/she is responsible for his/her share of the relationship, he/she may control it easily. But there is no reasion why he/she should tyr controling the other share. If we truly respect him/her. we will understand that our partner, or friend, son, mother, everyone is fully responsible for their share of the relationship. If we'd truly know how to respect the other half, our relationship will be parametered by conflicts. We'd never have wars in our family or couple. Futhermore, if we understand what love is and what fear is, we can be councious on how to communicate to ourselves others' dreams. The quality of communication depends on the options that we create in every moment, the emotional hollowing to the vibration of love or fear. If we are on the path of fear, then we can change the vibration to the one of love. It's a personal decision. Knowing which path we folow can change everything. In the end, if we understand the fact that nobody else can make us happy but ourselves, and that this happiness is the result of love which radiates from our being, we shall reach the skillfulness of the biggest art, The Art of Love. We can talk about love and we can write tons of books about it, but love differs from person to person, because she must first be experienced. Love is not a concept, it's a state of facts, manners of taking action. The only path that leads to suffering is the fear to take action. The only way to reach the skillfulness of love is to experience it. There is no need to justify it or explain it, it's enough to just experience it. Practice is what makes the master.
What difference does it make that I'm crumbling, that I'm suffering or thinking ? My presence in the world shall shake - as my big regret - some peaceful livings and it will abash the uncouncious and pleasent naivety of others, as my biggest regret. Even though I feel like my tragedy is for me, the biggest tragedy in history - bigger than the falls of kings or who know what waste in the bottom of a mine - still, I have the feeling of my nullity and worthlessness. I am aware that I am nothing in the univers, but I feel as if the the only real existence is my own. And if I were to chose between the existence of the world and my own, I would put aside the first, togheter with the lights and laws it contains, and encouraging myself to barge into the absolut nothingness. Even though, for me , life is a torment , I can't give up on it, because I do no believe in the transvital values in ordel to sacrifice myself for them. If I were to be honest, I should have to say that I don't know why I'm living and why I keep on living. probably, the key remains in the irational prodigy of life, which remains life without reasoning. And if there are only absurd reason for living ? But these can be called reasons ? This world is not worth sacrificing yourself for an idea or belief. How much happier are we today, if others have sacrificed for our sake and illumination ? What good and what illumination? If someone sacrificed himself for me to be happy right now, then I am more unhappy than he was, because I don't understand myself on building an existence upon a graveyard. I have moments when I feel responsible for the whole misery in history, when I don't understand why others shed blood for our sake. The whole history should turn to dust. Nothing in this world should interest me anymore; even the notion of death should sound ridiculous ; anguish limited and unrevealing, enthusiasm impure. life rationality, the dialectics of life the dialectics of logic, and not a demonic one, desperation minor and partial, eternity a saying, the existence of nothingness an illusion, fatality a joke.
When I think seriously, what role do these have ? Why set up problems, though light or accept shadows ? Wouldn't it be better to bury my tears in the seashore sand, in full loneliness ? I've never cried, because my tears turned into thoughta. And aren't these thoughts as bitter as tears ?Cioran
I am what nobody has yet to be.
I am the the first loves' rythm and the chaos of pain. A pair of bizzare and ordinary.
I am the polar sun's calmness and anxiety of the falling snow.
I am the breeze that soothes your nape.
I am a summer night's dream.
I am love, aversion, I am convultion, lazyness.
I am the first and the last.
I am the sad feeling of yesterdays and the horror of tomorrows. I carry the triteness of falling water in my tears and the sandess of late resignations in my soul.
I am all that you dispell in your first moment and all that you gather in the last.
I am everyone's and none's.
I am only the unknown that awaits you and you wait for.
I am everybody's story and the willow's cry in the wind.
I am the thought that disheartens .
I am a godess and a pagan. A goblet with ambrosia that in the end is wormwood.
I am your insecure step and your vulgar smile.
I am the one that's been forgotten, as she was found.
By Anna
One day, our story will be the story of others. Our love shall be a forgotten sin.
Our love shall reach the stars and extinguish them with its power.The darkness shall fall upon the world, upon us, upon the soul.Our love shall be a labyrinth which will last forever, a labyrinth that for centuries other forbidden loves shall astray within...One day, I will stretch my hands towards you and I won't find you or you shall blindly search for me...
One day, one of us shall sleep embraced by mari,one of us shall madly walk the street in pain,one of us shall bleed,one of us will be soundless,one of us shall glide into memories,one of us shall seek his wound and try to cover it with a raw crust, newborn by time... By Anna
…behold ... the rain... the angels are crying over me...
…my soul is shrieking it's pain towards the sky…but there's nobody to hear it...
…come... it's raining on my wings and soon I won't be able to fly anymore...
…why are you not here to protect me against these heavy tears…
of loneliness... of the world that surrounds me...
…I want to take a walk through the rain in order to cry unbothered....
…you know… In the rain, the tears can not be discerned…
…my beloved...soon we shall reunite... soon, I will feel you again…
…I must only be able to fly...
…come... it's not that far...
…my wings are weakened ... soaked...maybe because of the rain .. maybe due to my tears ... not even I know any longer...
…I'm struggling at the end of the sky
…help me fly...
…come and save this astray soul between two worlds ...don't let the sky fall upon me...
…why are you silenced when everything inside me wants to speak out to you …a smile ... one word...
…come...
…let's go home together ... By Anna
Reginele zambira cand te-au vazut plangand
Odata cu iesirea-ti din pantecul cel sfant
Cocorii anuntara pe cea care-a venit
S-aduca-n lume zambet si dragoste in gand
Atunci zei se-adunara sa vada ei minunea,
Natangi si prosti si veseli si sfinti si imparati,
Atat se minunara si daruri ei ti-au dat:
Comori si diamante sunt toate ale tale,
Luceferi blanzi sa fie in ochii tai acasa,
Adesea sa te-aline in noapte vanturi calde
Usor sa-ti inroseasca privira-ti dragalasa.
Din vise crude tu culege-ntelepciunea
Iar din icoane sfinte credinta si minunea
Acelor ca si tine ce vor salvata lumea.
Privira-ti de cristale alunge duhul rau,
Oceane si furtuni sa fie-n trupul tau.
Retina-ti biciuita de suflete pagane
Adanca si grea lupta sa duca sa aline.
Noroiul din fiinte sa il prefaci in lut,
Cu el sa faci castele in care sa ascunzi
Eterne suferinte intemnitate-n pururi,
Asa sa fi-nvecie si vesnic sa ne bucuri.
By Anna
Cand voi veni in miez de noapte
La poarta ta sa bat
Tu nu deschide ci ma lasa
Sa stiu ca m-ai uitat
Sa simt cum rasuflarea-mi plange
In rauri dorul meu
Sa simt in trupul meu furtune
Si-n piept un tunet greu.
Atunci sa mor si sa ma nasc
Din nou in asta lume
Intr-un izvor sa ma prefac
Sa curg pe langa tine.
As curge pe sub geamul tau
Sa te-oglindesti in mine
Si setea sa ti-o potolesti
Atunci cand bei din mine.
Sa simti atunci un dor nespus
Infipt adanc in tine
Sa stai langa izvor supus
Sa-ti fie dor de mine.
Sa nu poti sa ma ai caci eu
Voi curge mai departe
Spre alte inimi care vor
In mine sa se scalde.By Anna
The dawns are deepening in the bowery distance of time.
The art of love begins with ourselfs. The first step consists of becoming conciuous, of understanding the right truth due to which every man dreams his own dream. Who undertands that part, becomes responsible for his/her own share of the relationship, for himself / herself. Knowing that he/she is responsible for his/her share of the relationship, he/she may control it easily. But there is no reasion why he/she should tyr controling the other share. If we truly respect him/her. we will understand that our partner, or friend, son, mother, everyone is fully responsible for their share of the relationship. If we'd truly know how to respect the other half, our relationship will be parametered by conflicts. We'd never have wars in our family or couple. Futhermore, if we understand what love is and what fear is, we can be councious on how to communicate to ourselves others' dreams. The quality of communication depends on the options that we create in every moment, the emotional hollowing to the vibration of love or fear. If we are on the path of fear, then we can change the vibration to the one of love. It's a personal decision. Knowing which path we folow can change everything. In the end, if we understand the fact that nobody else can make us happy but ourselves, and that this happiness is the result of love which radiates from our being, we shall reach the skillfulness of the biggest art, The Art of Love. We can talk about love and we can write tons of books about it, but love differs from person to person, because she must first be experienced. Love is not a concept, it's a state of facts, manners of taking action. The only path that leads to suffering is the fear to take action. The only way to reach the skillfulness of love is to experience it. There is no need to justify it or explain it, it's enough to just experience it. Practice is what makes the master.
I am what nobody has yet to be.
