Une bimbo nommée désir
Do
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Tks all for your concern. NQT
Thơ Mỗi Ngày
CHARLES SIMIC
Eternities
A child
lifted in his mother's arms to see a parade
And that old man throwing breadcrumbs
To the
pigeons crowding around his feet in the park,
Could they be the same person?
The blind
woman who may know the answer recalls
Seeing a ship as big as a city block
Glide one
night all lit up past her kitchen window
On its way to the dark and stormy Atlantic.
Granta: Summer 2013: Travel
A MORNING IN VICENZA
In memoriam Joseph Brodsky, Krzysztof Kieslowski
The sun was
so fragile, so young,
that we were
a little scared; a careless move
might
scratch it, just a shout-if anyone
had
tried-might do it harm; only the rushing swifts,
with wings
hard as cast-iron,
were free to
sing out loud, because they'd spent their brief,
uneasy
childhoods in clay nests
alongside
siblings, small, mad planets,
black as
forest berries.
In a small
cafe the sleepy waiter-the night's last shadows
met beneath
his eyes-searched for change
in his vast
pocket, and the coffee smelled of solemn
printer's
ink, of sweetness, Arabia. The sky's blue
promised a
long afternoon, an endless day.
I saw you as
if for the first time.
And even the
Palladio columns seemed
newborn,
they rose from waves of dawn
like Venus,
your elder companion.
To start
from scratch, to count the losses, count the dead,
to start a
new day without the two of you, first you
whom we
buried twice and lamented twice,
you lived
two times as strongly as the rest, on two continents,
in two
languages, in the world and in imagination-then you,
with your
chiseled face, the gaze that amplified
objects and
hearts (always too small).
You both are
gone, and so from now we'll lead a double life,
at once in
shadow and in light, in bright sunshine
and the cool
of stony halls, in mourning and in joy.
Adam Zagajewski: Without End
“Pour survivre, il aurait fallu qu'elle soit plus cynique ou moins proche de la réalité. Au lieu de cela, elle était un poète au coin de la rue essayant de réciter ses vers à une foule qui lui arrache ses vêtements. "
Ðế sống sót, phải đểu giả
và đừng có dí mặt thật gần vào đống kít, tức cuộc đời.
Thay vì vậy thì em là thi sĩ ở 1 góc đường, cố tìm cách đọc thơ cho lũ
man rợ xúm nhau lột truồng em ra để chiêm ngưỡng bướm của em.
by MM: Người đàn bà sau
khi mần tình.
Et Marilyn créa l'émeute
Avec
"Sept Ans de réflexion" (1955), de Billy Wilder, Marilyn Monroe, dont
on célèbre le 50e anniversaire de la mort, devient un mythe universel.
Hồi
đó đó,
cái tít được dịch loạn là Bảy Năm
Ngứa Nghề
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bimbo
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