Saturday, August 12, 2017

Kaz Watanabe \ The Bleached Cloud Spring has risen ...












A whitewashed cloud
Spring has risen on the mountains of Tatsuta,
Quietly lined fogs ...
Or at the top of the distant Ogura
Sakura shines ghostly?

SUDAE FUDZIARA


It seems that the nightingale was waiting,
When they are born into the world,
Like bright pearls,
Days of the new year - and fled
From the doors of the spring valley!

SUDAE FUDZIARA


You walk through the clouds,
And suddenly on a mountain path
Through the rain - cherry blossom!

Quito Vladimir Kush Soul Plexus









In the cherry petals
His fleeting face showed
A rush of a spring wind.
Oh, if the stranger had looked
In my snow-covered garden!

SUDAE FUDZIARA










Rivaling with whiteness of snow,
Fallen from heaven,
At my house
On a branch of winter plum
Blossom today white flowers!

Otomo Yakamoti

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Vicky Dens \ By the line where destiny is written ...






I draw coal in the snow,
I write on the surf strip,
I'm running along the line of life,
It is fired with cold and heat.

I look into the icy eyes,
I kiss the hot lips,
To be most accurately predicted
By the line, where destiny is written.

The third pain to forget in a dream,
To reach, fly or hide,
To be more likely to dissolve
In this time, in this fire.

Mary














Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Miracle Wonderful Christmas Tales ...








Christmas is a very joyful holiday
Kind, bright and sincere feelings!
Together with the first Star, the heart immediately
They leave sadness and sadness.

Magic moment
Hopes for Happiness!
A birth moment for every soul!
Belief in what is both evil and bad weather
On the day of yesterday, they are gone forever.





In this moment we remember about relatives,
About relatives, about favorite friends.
Earth's life sweeps fast
In eternally vain, troublesome days ...




And only a moment of Christmas is given to us,
To all look back in yourself,
Having drunk both with water from a well,
Kindness of their loved ones, loving.




Miracle Miraculous
Christmas Tales
The force gives us a whole year to walk
For my Luck ...
For Happiness!
For the Star, that beckons ahead ...



On Christmas let the lighted candles
They shine in the grayest days!
Our souls live endlessly,
Under the sky, they are not alone!




Let them keep us gone in the Eternity
From earthly sorrows and troubles!
Let the earthly Love and carelessness
Gives Joy for many more years!


Let the diseases not touch us all!
Let our dreams come true!
Let us people in return smile!
Let flowers blossom for us!




May there be May thunderstorms for us!
Downpours warm will be for us!
Let…
Only very happy tears
Add wrinkles to the eyes!

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Remi Rebillard. Girl and the sea.












A girl with blue eyes sat on the beach.
Such blue that the sea was in comparison with them gray, with such deep,
That the sea seemed like a lake, so alive that the sea seemed artificial

The girl sat and listened. The sea sang a song to her. The song was very gentle.
She was about love. The sea loved the girl. She loved and believed her eyes.



She came to meet here dawn. How many remembered. She liked watching the sea give birth to the sun.
All sorrow absorbed the sand. And the surf took them away. All the joys were imprinted in the tracks. And the sea kissed them.

One day the girl did not come. The sea was waiting for her.
Then raging, then falling into a calm. The beach was white sand beach.
Beautiful shell from the depths. Thin wave pattern ..

The sea waited. Believed. It will wait forever

The girl will be back.
Aged. With flat faded eyes. With the faded hair.

Tiredly sits on the sand. The smell of the sea will breathe.
The sea will gently touch her wounded feet, healing the wounds. And the girl will be reborn.
Foam will wash away the dust of roads, grievances, time. At the sea, blue eyes are strikingly striking.
And the girl will understand, eyes are deep and alive when you look at the sea.
And the sea is upon you. When in your eyes there is love

Anna Kitina





Ariadne's thread









Marina Tsvetaeva and Ariadne Efron. Prague, 1925



It all began with the movie "Mirrors" about Marina Tsvetaeva.
I know that not always books coincide with the films put on them, and what to say about the fate of real people. I understand what art fiction is ... but! Because something is behind it.
So there was a desire to know WHAT!
I read Ariadne Efron's book "About MARINA TSVETAEVA." Memories of her daughter. "
I can not say that there are no questions left. I learned a lot of new, unusual, strange about Marina Tsvetaeva and about the relationship in her family.
So there was a need to read some documents. I was looking, reading.
I found a lot of absolutely contradictory information.
In order to write about Tsvetaeva, not only will not suffice a post, but even a more serious volume.
But I had another goal - I was interested in her daughter.
I began to try to compose the information that I found in the post.
But it did not turn out to be a little and succinct, but I know that we all do not like a lot of bukovok in posts.
And then I came across the composition of the school girl from Krasnoyarsk, Vershinina Maria, in which everything is set out clearly, but at the same time quite emotionally.
The size, though all the same great, but if there is time and desire, I suggest reading.
Maybe you will also learn something new for yourself.




Ariadne (Alya) Efron


"I did not live my life ..." (AS Efron)

Biography of the soul of Ariadna Sergeyevna Efron, whose road was incredible, tragically intertwined - is tangled not even in a thread, not in a tangle, but in a huge, nervous, bitter coma of contradictions, losses, emptiness, unfulfilled hopes and desires, misunderstandings, loneliness, pain, separation , Silence, woven nervously, in the closest, deadly embrace with the terrible bitterness of Time, I must honestly say that, of course, from the point of view of ordinary, average, human, familiar, simply feminine, the fate of Marina Tsvetaeva's daughter is not happy. Absolutely!



In fact, what? Who is Alya Efron? The daughter of her mother who lived in her shadow, suppressed by her every minute, a timid loser, a naive idealist who came to build a happy communist paradise from brilliant Paris to red Moscow, and spent half her life in prisons and GULAG camps, the woman beaten by investigators and guards And was, alas!) Yes there is a woman!



Ariadne Efron. The end of the 1920s


That the life of Ariadne Ephron was flawless, full, high and happy to the brim, and brilliant and wormwoodly endured burdens and immensely the Mother's Love that fell to her lot, and also - the Honor inscribed by her stars: to be the Daughter of Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva and Sergei Yakovlevich Efron.
She did not abandon her at the time of death. Moreover, she chose it for this hour. Consciously. We all choose in our lives. Honor to be a daughter was for her higher and more expensive than anything else on Earth. Above the usual female share, female happiness, female peace ... Female egoism, in the end!

The height of her Spirit was equal in strength to the Height of Talent of her brilliant, unique mother. And the height of the Debt ... I will not mention it, perhaps. Ariadna Sergeyevna did not tolerate pathos.



Ariadne Efron. Paris, 1936.

Biography

Ariadna Sergeyevna Efron was born on September 18 (5), 1912 in Moscow.
Parents were the poet Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva and the Russian publicist and writer Sergei Efron. Ariadne was the first-born in the family. As befits, this was an event for the parents - very young - Marina was not yet twenty, Seryozha - nineteen. The name for the daughter was chosen by Marina - by the name of the favorite heroine of Greek mythology.









"I called her Ariadna," in spite of Sergei, who loves Russian names, ("Well, Katya, well, Masha, I understand that!) Why Ariadna?"). For seven years I wrote a drama, where the heroine was called Anthrillia. "From Antrallia to Ariadne." -Called for romanticism and arrogance that lead my whole life.
"Ariadne." - It's responsible!
That's why. (* From the diary of Marina Tsvetaeva)





Irina Efron and Ariadne Efron (Alya). 1919.


By the age of four, her mother had taught her to read, to five to write, in six to a diary. At seven, in 1919, this unusually gifted and unevenly developed girl becomes a confidante of her brilliant mother, her support in all adversity. In those years, Ariadne-Alya, as her mother called her, writes her first poems and, of course, dedicates them to her mother, whom she adored and called simply Marina.



M. Tsvetaeva. Pontaillac. 1928


After Sergei Efron voluntarily went to the front, the family began to be poor. Children almost always starved. Alya, in addition to everything, began to be hopelessly ill - fever attacks almost did not leave her. Malaria fever, smoothly passed into typhus, then almost lost her life. Marina never left her for a single step more than two months or more.






 Dr. Seuss paintings for sale