Every woman should be beautiful vintage photos =))) Here I am spodvigli.
Although, of course, suggest a diet = (((
photographer A. Sherstyuk
Schibbolet
Together with my stones,
fed
crying behind bars,
dragged me to the center of the market, where
explains that the flag
I lent oath.
Flute
doppioflauto of the night thinking dark
twin glowing
in Vienna and Madrid.
Put your flag at half mast,
memory. A half-mast
for today and forever.
Heart:
made known here,
qui, al centro del mercato.
Gridalo, lo Schibboleth
nella patria estraniata:
Febbraio. No pasaran.
Love of my body, living death,
look in vain for your written words
and I think, with the flower withers
that if I live without me want to lose
The wind is immortal. The inert stone
knows no shadow nor life.
inner heart does not need
honey ice cream that light versa.
But I endured. I cut my veins,
tiger and dove on my sewing
in a duel of bites and lilies.
Quiet, therefore, with words, my madness
or let me live in my serene
dark night of the soul for ever
often the music takes me away like the sea. Under
once in a mist or vast ether
sail I put my pale star.
Swollen lungs and chest forward as sailing
Furrow crossed the crest of the waves
That night I hide;
vibrate in me I feel all the passions of a
vessel that pain, the mighty wind,
the storm and its convulsive movements
immense chasm rocks me
Other valves, flat calm,
large mirror of my despair (*)
Sidenotes
(*) As in "De profundis exclaims, "here is the attribution of a sense of mind to an atmospheric phenomenon. In this case the "calm" there is despair. In the other poem cited above, such a thing was attributed to an entire landscape is more or less the Arctic, although one of "chaos" was more an abstraction of a landscape rather than something real and tangible. Indeed, the desperation is a tangible feeling, while Chaos is still a conceptualization.
Mary
with your blonde mantilla
ass down and melancholy.
I own the pink
the dark rectangle of your sinus
What time?
Night is too short.
Yes
Oh, Mary
ass down and melancholy!
VCR, stop time, the transmission. Vast collections of video tapes with footage of Iranian cinema not subtitled and the improbable Enrico Ghezzi out of sync with the lip began to fill the shelves of libraries. An inert mass of memory, and demagnetization ever magazine because there is always something to see. Alla fine ho cominciato a tenere la televisione accesa quando non c'era niente da dire, per riempire un vuoto. And I started to look like a crack across from some of my personal history and my generation, "to see the effect it does."
Keep your distance, I would say a "proper distance", which then what is not never . But I try a correction continues like looking through a zoom. In order not to fall into the story and lost promise. I know that resets the time , if you're not careful. Also because the monitor I pass the days, like many, working on my graphics. Which, although at the beginning seemed a miracle, is not much different from watching TV, just seems more active and then you eat the eyes. See Internet, the library of Babel. And then I think that movement that now allows us operating to go back to the computer, which allows us to reset the time spent at work. The command to the machine is " undo ": "not to do so," after having done so. Those who know him know that you do so, "Control Zeta (zeta apple, so to speak, for those who use the Mac). It allows you to do one or more steps back into the project, and in some applications to return to the origin, erasing the history the path fact, the ' errore commesso. Azzera il tempo nello stesso modo della televisione, affascina, ed è una maledetta scorciatoia, soprattutto per chi non sa dove vuole arrivare . Cancella l' esperienza , che è fatta di errori irreversibili . Nella realtà infatti mi risulta non si torni indietro, anzi si paga, e caro. E questo è un grande valore: il percorso del tempo, la storia, individuale and social development. why I can not talk about things other than through experience and through , I now know to be an increasingly shared. And this makes me a little more secure, even if the times seem dark, more than usual. The war has begun? Let's watch a viewfinder. Why we're the "new heroes" media. It is we who, people consuming the media, communicating, layout, write on it, we promote them and make them live by making, such heroically. Why do we do? Why can not distinguish, differentiate the undifferentiated? learn how to choose? Everyone can groped his reply, looking at his life. And wrong. No technological knowledge can give us an answer, not above, to reset the time limit. Our schools of design and communication, private or university, made to seem a new skilled workers. For those like us, "objectives - indeed - sensitive", there is a damned system error, evidently. Perhaps "the application has unexpectedly quit and any unsaved data will be lost." Please reboot.
[Anonymous]
O Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, O thou that combines
all my pleasures, all my duties,
remember the beauty of caresses, the sweetness of the hearth and the Magic
nights, Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses?
The evenings lit by the embers and evenings on the balcony
veiled vapor rose. As your breast that was sweet
your heart brother! We often planted
immortal words, the evenings lit by the embers.
How beautiful are the only ones in the warm evenings, as space is
deep, the mighty heart! Bent over you, queen of all the
worship, I thought I breathe the fragrance of your
blood. How beautiful the light is on sultry evenings!
The night thickens like a wall, my eyes guessed
the dark your eyes and drank your breath,
or sweet, my poison, but your foot fell asleep in my hands fraternal
. The night thickens like a wall.
know how to summon up happiest moments: as I saw the
my past, crouched between your knees. Why try
your languid beauty out of your body or your
heart so weak? I know how to summon up happiest moments.
Oaths, perfumes, kisses endlessly chased by a pit
interdict our probes as well as go back to heaven only
, energized, having left in the deep seas
, or oaths, perfumes, kisses without end !
On my wall hangs a Japanese woodcut.
The mask of a demon villain, painted with gold wool. Full
of compassion I see the swollen veins
front, a sign of what has
hard to be bad.
round eyes through the bars.
eyelid, sfarfallinante animal
vague upward
passes a look.
Iris, vessel, dull and dreamless:
will be next, the sky, gray-heart.
retort, the nozzle of the iron
chipping fumigant.
the sense that light takes
you guess the soul.
(Were I like you. You like me.
not perhaps subject to the same event?
cast parties)
floor. Above
next to each other, the two gray puddles
heart
mouthfuls of silence
I saw you cry: the great bright tears
He covered that eye blue
E Then it seemed like a purple dripping dew
I saw you smile: the blaze of sapphire
Next to you ceased to shine
could not match the rays that look crowded
Vivid
As the clouds the sun away.
They receive an intense color and warm
that barely a shadow of the evening near
can hunt from the sky.
Those smiles stirs in
saddest pure joy
Their sun leaves behind a fire that shines on the heart
durassimo If ever
everything would change.
Given that we are mortal
Much remains as before.
Lucia Martinez.
Twilight of red silk.
your thighs, as the evening
ranging from light to shadow.
hidden black shadows darken your magnolias. Here I am
Lucia Martinez.
I come to consume her mouth
and dragged by her hair
in an aura of shells.
Because I want, and because I can.
Twilight of red silk.
not take away your memory.
Let alone in my heart,
tremor of white cherry
in the martyrdom of January.
separates me from the dead
a wall of bad dreams.
suffering pains of fresh lily
for a heart of stone.
All night garden
my eyes like two dogs.
All night, eating
the quince of poison.
Sometimes the wind is
tulip fears.
is a tulip sick
dawn in winter.
A wall of bad dreams
separates me from the dead.
The grass cover in the valley gray
silence of your body.
With all the plaster
fields were poor
rush of love, jasmine wet.
with Austria and flame of heaven
were wicked buzz of snow in my chest.
Skies and fields
chains around my hands shook.
fields and skies
whipped the wounds of my body.
Only your heart burning and nothing more. My paradise in the field without nightingale or lire, with a river and discreet a fountain. Without the spur of the wind above the foliage or the star who wants to be a leaf. A great light that was of another firefly in a range of looks vicious. A clear and there rest of our kisses, or the sound echo is open very far. Your heart is burning no more.
My heart like a snake
was stripped of his skin
and hold between my fingers
full of wounds and honey.
Thoughts
nested in your wrinkles, where are they?
Where the roses that smelled
of Jesus Christ and Satan?
Poor envelope that oppressed my star
fantastic! Grey parchment
sore
of what I wanted and now I love you more.
I see you in embryos of science, poetry
mummies and skeletons of ancient
my innocence and my romantic secrets.
you hang on the walls of my museum
sentimental
close to the cold and dark
lilies of my sleeping bad?
O you put above the pines
book
painful of my love because you know the trill of the nightingale
dawn?
see you naked is to recall the land
The flat ground and no horses
the ground without a cane, pure form
closed the future border of silver.
see you naked is to understand the anxiety of the rain
looking fragile hips
or fever sea
face immense light that is not on your cheek.
Blood resonate in alcoves
and will come with the sword of lightning, but you will not know where
lie at the heart of the toad and / or revenge.
Your belly is a clash of roots
your lips without dawn Profile
and trembling under the bed of roses
mourn the dead, waiting for their turn
The night will not come
is because you and I can go.
But I will go though a sun I eat the head.
But you'll come with my tongue burned by the rain of salt.
The day will not come because you will not be
and I can not go. But I will go
bringing my pink toads bitten. But you'll be
in the dark sewers of darkness.
Neither night nor day
not want to come because I die for you and you for me
Throw this ring
water
(shadow support
his fingers on my shoulder)
Throw this ring. I
over a hundred years. Silence! Throw this ring
water.
The mazes created by the time
vanish.
(
remains is the desert)
The heart
source of desire
vanishes
(
remains is the desert)
The illusion of dawn and kisses
vanish
;
remains only
the desert;
the undulating desert
I lose
brown in your country,
Maria del Carmen.
I lose
in your eyes uninhabited
playing the keyboard of your mouth ineffable.
In your embrace perpetual
would brown the wind and the breeze would
the velvet of your face I lose
in your breasts in the deep dark throbbing
your sweet body.
I lose
in your country brown
Maria del Carmen.
In the morning I wanted to be green
heart.
Heart.
Mature And in the evening, I wanted to be
nightingale.
Nightingale.
(Heart becomes orange.
Heart
becomes the color of love).
the morning alive,
I wanted to be.
Heart. And in the evening waned
wanted to be my voice.
Nightingale.
Heart becomes the color of orange!
Heart
becomes the color of love.
I did not want to tell you I did not want anything.
in your eyes I saw two trees
crazy.
breeze rice and gold.
oscillate. I did not want
I would not tell you anything.
François Bouvier is a Parisian lawyer said mannered and easygoing
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Again Patrizia Pera Riello uses his talents to art
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View booktrailer at ...
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Jacques and Jean-Pierre, two brothers, penniless and inconclusive, it is unlikely improvise desperately seeking work in their own ways. Financial Advisors last minute, baby sitter little credibility, tailors clumsy ... until a phone call seems to finally be able to change everything! Albertine Merceret, the old aunt, a famous opera singer, wants to name his heirs! Finally can say goodbye to their problems, just get Aunt Albertine! Sounds easy, very easy ...! Maybe too much ...? During the unfolding of that history pass before our eyes funny scenes and hilarious twists that ultimately it seems unlikely they are so artfully constructed. All facets of the human soul are touched lightly with researched: ingenuity, ambition, suspicion, ingenuity and even love, alternate and mingle on the stage of misunderstanding creating a pleasant and gentle comedy.
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In Russian: Blessed nischie duhom because there ih The kingdom of heaven.
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