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Entries Tagged as 'France'

PEOPLE I MET – Haroun TAZIEFF (1914-1988)

March 23rd, 2017 · No Comments · Diary, Diaspora, Famous People, PEOPLE, Poetry, Science, Short Stories & Cameos

Madame Tazieff-mère was, as one would have expected, a formidable lady, in every respect, and, for that matter, larger than life… At the age of 70 she just returned from riding in the forest nearby. Beside her sporting pursuits, Madame Tazieff was a dedicated artiste painter, in strong chromatic touches and her canvasses decorated the walls of the entire house. In true Russian fashion, she made sure that she remained the focus of attention.

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“Blouse Roumaine”: Henriette-Yvonne Stahl (Mrs. Petru Dumitriu), (1900-1984), Romania, “Prisoner of Conscience”

January 4th, 2017 · No Comments · Books, Communist Prisons, Diary, Diaspora, Famous People, International Media, PEOPLE, POLITICAL DETENTION / DISSENT, quotations, Reviews, Translations

By contrast to Stahl, Dumitriu was an unknown quantity, a rough diamond from the provinces, the young-man-in-a-hurry, ready to climb the greasy pole of the communist political establishment. This may not be the place to discuss this ‘fatal attraction’, which the fragrant 45 year-old Stahl had for the handsome 22 year-old muscle.

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Dictionary of Romanian Quotations – Letter “L”

November 10th, 2016 · No Comments · Diaspora, Famous People, International Media, OPINION, PEOPLE, quotations, Translations

Lover:
“After the metaphors, the Chemist. This is how great sentiments are frittered away. To start as a poet and finish as a gynaecologist. From all conditions, that of the lover is the least enviable.”
(Emil Cioran (1911-1995), philosopher, writer)
(“Syllogismes de l’amertume”)

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Poetry in Translation (CCCLXVIII), France, René DAUMAL (1908-1944): “Poème”, “Poem”

December 17th, 2015 · No Comments · Books, Famous People, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Reviews, Translations

Voyant qu’on n’a rien, on essaye de se donner,
Essayant de se donner, on voit qu’on n’est rien,
Voyant qu’on est rien, on désire devenir,
Désirant devenir, on vit.
Văzând că nu am nimic, încerc să ofer,
Încercând să ofer, văd că sunt un nimic,
Văzând că sunt un nimic, doresc să devin,
Dorind să devin, trăiesc.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCLX), Paul CELAN (1920, Cernăuți, Bucovina, Romania – 1970, Paris, France), ROMANIA/FRANCE: “PANTA”, “La Pente”, “Die Halde”

October 10th, 2015 · No Comments · Books, Diaspora, Famous People, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Reviews, Science, Translations

Tu vis près de moi, telle que moi :
comme une pierre
dans la joue affaissée de la nuit.

Ô cet œil ivre
qui erre ici comme nous
nous confond à lui
et s’en étonne.

Exişti alături de mine, ca şi mine însumi:
ca o piatră
în obrazul supt al nopţii.

O, acest ochi beat
rătăcitor ca şi noi
ne confundă
şi este surprins.

Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN,
© 2015 Copyright Constantin ROMAN, London

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Poetry in Translation (CCCLIX), Guy Chambelland (1927-1996), FRANCE/BURGUNDY: “La Femme Infidèle”, “Femeia Infidelă”

October 9th, 2015 · No Comments · Famous People, International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Vieţile se scurg în parallel, ca ferestrele…
fiecăruia dintre noi, nu-i mai rămâne din celălalt decât visul morţii.

La vie nous roule parallèles comme les fenêtres
chacun n’a plus de l’autre que sa mort à rêver.

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Poetry in Translation (CCCXLVIII), Charles BAUDELAIRE (1821-1857) FRANCE: “The Murderer’s Wine”, “Nevasta a murit”, “Le Vin de l’assassin”

July 31st, 2015 · No Comments · Books, Famous People, OPINION, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations, Uncategorized

Ma femme est morte, je suis libre!
Je puis donc boire tout mon soûl.
Lorsque je rentrais sans un sou,
Ses cris me déchiraient la fibre.

Nevasta a murit această seară,
Sunt liber, pot să beau, fetiţă…
Când mă-ntoarceam acasă, criţă,
Zbiera, de îmi tăia suflarea.

My wife is dead and I am free!
And I can guzzle all I want.
When I came home without a cent
Her crying knifed the heart in me.

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Four Book Reviews by Constantin ROMAN – Biographies of Hugh Trevor-Roper, Salomé Zourabichvili, George Orwell,

May 14th, 2014 · No Comments · Books, History, International Media, OPINION, PEOPLE, Reviews

When in old age he found himself the master of Peterhouse, Cambridge, he reviewed “Religion and Public Doctrine in Modern England” by Maurice Cowling, the history don, who had secured him the Mastership of the oldest Cambridge College. Cowling was the guru to such Conservative Party luminaries as Peregrine Worsthorne and Colin Welch of the Telegraph, and to that extent he was a person of influence. “The subject is the intellectual history of our time and the great spiritual crisis in which we have found ourselves,” Trevor-Roper wrote. “I find, on reading it, that this intellectual history has unfolded itself, and this crisis has been observed, and is to be resolved, almost entirely within the walls of Peterhouse.”

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Poetry in Translation, (CCLXXV) – FRANCE, Alfred de MUSSET (1810-1857): “Le rideau de ma voisine”, “Perdeaua vecinei mele”

March 14th, 2014 · No Comments · International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Le rideau de ma voisine
Se soulève lentement.
Elle va, je l’imagine,
Prendre l’air un moment.

On entr’ouvre la fenêtre :
Je sens mon coeur palpiter.
Elle veut savoir peut-être
Si je suis à guetter.

Mais, hélas ! ce n’est qu’un rêve ;
Ma voisine aime un lourdaud,
Et c’est le vent qui soulève
Le coin de son rideau.

Alfred de MUSSET (1810-1857)
Perdeaua vecinei mele
(după Goethe)

Perdeaua vecinei mele
Se ridică întrodoară.
Ea încearcă, îmi închipui,
Să vadă cum e-afară.

Fereastra se-ntredeschide.
În piept, inima-i bătândă:
Ea vrea să ştie unde
Eu pot să stau la pândă.

Dar m-am pripit: vecinei,
Îi place-o beizadea
Şi doar e vântul care
Îi suflă în perdea.

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Poetry in translation, (CCLXX): Charles BAUDELAIRE (1821 -1867), FRANCE: “Le chat”, “Il gatto”, “Felina”

March 4th, 2014 · No Comments · International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in translation, (CCLXX): Charles BAUDELAIRE (1821 -1867), FRANCE: “Le chat”, “Il gatto”, “Felina”
Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s’enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusques à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.

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