"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Archive for July, 2015

Moment

Breathe this clear air

Put your foot down into reality

Feel life running within your heart.

*

There is no future

And the past means almost nothing

All you have is this magic moment.

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30 words, Memyselfandela, July 2015

Photo: Instagram http://ift.tt/1JtHHqw


What’s Your Version?

The “Three Little Pigs” is a fairy tale that has become very popular in our culture. It was originally written in England, the earliest credited story version being written by James Orchard Halliwell in 1849. The story appeared in a book titled “Popular Rhymes and Nursery Tales.” It is not known if Halliwell, who later used the name Halliwell-Phillipps, created the story himself or has simply passed it down from his previous generations.

Halliwell was credited by Joseph Jacobs when he adapted the story for a book titled “English Fairy Tales.” Jacobs made changes to appeal to a younger audience. In the original story, the “Big Bad Wolf” was boiled in a pot and eaten by the three pigs. Rather than end the fairy tale in such a horrible manner, Jacobs adapted the tale, so that the “Big Bad Wolf” came down the chimney and burned his tail. In the Disney interpretation, the wolf lands in a pot of boiling turpentine, but runs away in pain through the chimney.

The basic story of “The Three Little Pigs” is a tale of three little pigs who each builds a home. The first one takes little time in building the home out of straw and spends the rest of his time playing and relaxing. The second little pig builds a home out of sticks, which takes a bit longer, but he too values relaxation time. The third little pig chooses to build a home out of bricks, which requires a great deal of time and effort. He values more taking the time to build a home properly over relaxation and recreation. When the big bad wolf comes to the homes, only the third pig’s house stands up to the pressure applied by the wolf.

The moral lesson learned from “The Three Little Pigs” is that hard work and dedication pay off. This idea that taking the time to perform a task the right way has been widely adopted by many teachers and parents of children for generations. It has became extremely popular in the United States with Walt Disney’s adaption of the tale.

Here you can find Disney’s adaptation:

In 1933, Walt Disney released an eight-minute animated film of the “Three Little Pigs.” According to the Encyclopedia of Disney Animated Shorts, this short film has inspired many Americans through the Great Depression. Just as the three little pigs were able to overcome adversity through hard work, many Americans believed that their hard work would eventually lead them out of the Great Depression.

But starting from the Disney version of the story, the cinematography has continued to adapt, and it is really interesting to see how the story has been changed in time, in different moments in time and according to different trends, into:

a musical version


a reality version


an unhappy ending version

or an Italian Mafia style version.


The story has , like all fairy tales, a seed of truth hidden deep inside. And it can also mean something completely different to different people. The moral of the story nevertheless inspired generations to work hard for success, with the hope that one day the hard work will lead to success and happiness.

Yet, no matter how you look at the story and whichever your favourite version may be, enjoy it. 🙂

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Memyselfandela, July 2015

Videos: Youtube


Finger

An old very faithful churchman used to end the liturgy with a prayer saying:

” Lord , please put Thy finger into the chest of the unsaved and bring them back on the right track “.
After many years the man was asked again to end up the liturgy  with the same prayer.

He said:  ‘God please put … ” and stopped.

After several embarrassing moments he only ended with  “Amen.”
Asked later why he did not finish his prayer as usual, the old man said:
I had a vision. And God told me: “YOU are my finger!” “

IMG_1325Translation: memyselfandela, 2009


Black & White

Life is an opportunity, benefit from it. 


Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is bliss, taste it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is a tragedy, confront it.
Life is an adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.”

Mother Teresa


Over time you learn , by Jorge Luis Borges

After a while man learns to perceive the subtle difference
between sustaining a hand and chaining a soul,
learn that love does not mean you sleep with someone
and that having someone next to you is synonymous with safety,
and so, the man begins to learn …

that kisses are no contracts
and presents are no promises,
and so the man begins to accept his defeats with head up and eyes wide open,
and learns to build all roads
based on today and now
for the land of ‘tomorrow’
is too uncertain for plans …
and the future always has a lot of alternatives that stop halfway.

And after a while, man learns that if it is too long
even the life-giving warmth of the sun, burns and turns to ash.
So you begin to plant your own garden
and beautifie your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers,
and learn that you really can suffer,
that you really have power,
that really are valuable,
man learns and learns …
and learns every day.

With time you learn that to stay with someone that gives you a good future,
means that sooner or later you will want to go back to the past.

With time you understand that only one who is able to love you
your defects
without trying to change you,
can bring all the happiness you want.
You realize in time that if you’re with this person only
to accompany your loneliness,
inexorably you will get to a point when you will not want to see that person anymore.

With time you will understand that true friends are counted,
and that the one who does not fight for them
sooner or later will be seen surrounded by false
friends.

With time you learn that words said in a moment of anger,
may continue to harm the injured for the rest of his life.
With time you learn that to excuse is something anyone can do,
but to forget that, it something that only really big hearts can do.

With time you understand that if you seriously injured a friend
is very likely that his friendship will never be the same intensity.

With time you realize that although
You can be happy with your friends,
oneday you will cry for those you have let go.

In time you realize that every experience lived with each being,
will not ever happen again.

In time you realize that whoever humiliates and despises a human being
sooner or later will suffer the same humiliation and contempt, but multiplied square.

With time you learn that hurrying or forcing things to happen,
Will result in the end that they will not be as expected.

In time you realize that in reality
the best was not the future
but what you were living right at that moment.

With time you will see that although you feel happy with those you are around you,
you will miss the ones who were with you yesterday
and now are gone and no longer come back …

With time you will learn that trying to forgive or apologize,
say that you love, say that you miss,
to say that you need ,
to say that you want to be friend
before a grave
do not make any sense.

But unfortunately,
just in time you learn all.
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Photo: Photobucket


Count the Tears


God counts the tears of women
For He knows the measure of life and suffering…
Tears, drops of sacrifice, drops of life essence,
Drops of smile, drops of deception,
Drops of love, drops of dew,
Fuel for the gift of life and forgiveness…
God counts the tears of women,
He alone knows the number…
Women alone feel it.
And God smiles.

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memyselfandela, 2010

Photo : Photobucket


Moments

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Photos: Photobucket


We lose- because we win / Pierdem – caci castigam , by EMILY DICKINSON

We lose–because we win–

Gamblers–recollecting which

Toss their dice again!

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Pierdem — caci castigam–

Jucatori –amintindu-si cum

Isi arunca zarul din nou!

Translation: Adela Galasiu, 2010


I am a bridge / Sunt un pod , by Adrian Paunescu

I am a bridge over the river,

Towards you, always

Supported by nothing

Only on my soul.

This heartless river

Will smash me  into pieces,

I understand my condition,

But you also have to understand it.

I am a bridge over the river,

On my sad pillars,

Towards you always

But you do not exist.

You do not understand that it’s hard for me,

That I’m cold and it is ugly

That I am heavy and fixed

I am a bridge and that is all.

Where I get to go

I am forced to remain

Whether it smells like iron

Whether it smells like hay.

And at once I understand

That I am sad  in vain

On my sad pillars

I embrace myself and shiver

You feel what I feel,

More seriously, moreover,

Your permanent crying

I take from you and listen to it.

And I seem to give echo

And resonate in another way,

Stepped over by feet

Like a man, like a bridge.

I am a bridge over the river,

I am a bridge over the walking,

How many winds have written me

How many rains have deleted me.

But you’re not on the shore,

But you’re not with them

But you do not crush me,

You hold me and you drink me.

I am an elevated  bridge

Over an uncomfortable river

I am a bridge, you’re a river,

Are you a river, I am a bridge.

…………………………

Sunt un pod peste rau,

Catre tine mereu,

Pe nimic sprijinit,

Doar pe sufletul meu.

Acest rau nemilos

Ma va sparge-n bucati,

Starea mea o-nteleg,

Dar si tu seama da-ti.

Sunt un pod peste rau,

Pe pilonii mei tristi,

Catre tine mereu,

Insa tu nu existi.

Nu-ntelegi ca mi-e greu,

Ca mi-e frig si urat,

Sunt greoi si sunt fix,

Sunt un pod si atat.

Unde-apuc sa ma duc

Sunt silit sa raman

Ca miroase a fier,

Ca miroase a fan.

Si deodata-nteleg

Ca sunt trist in zadar,

Pe pilonii mei tristi

Ma cuprind si tresar.

Tu simti tot ce simt eu,

Ba mai grav, ba mai mult,

Plansul tau permanent

Il preiau si il ascult.

Si dau parca ecou

Si vibrez in alt mod,

In picioare calcat

Ca un om, ca un pod.

Sunt un pod peste riu,

Sunt un pod peste mers,

Cate vanturi m-au scris,

Cate ploi m-au tot sters.

Dar tu nu esti pe mal,

Dar tu nu esti cu ei,

Dar tu nu ma strivesti,

Tu ma tii si ma bei.

Sunt un pod ridicat

Peste-un rau incomod,

Sunt un pod, esti un rau,

Esti un rau, sunt un pod.

Adrian Paunescu, Romanian Poet

Translation: Adela Galasiu, 2010


Did you smile today? :)

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Photos: Photobucket


4 Silences

Source: Endo, twitter


Globular Clouds

Photos: Adela Galasiu, July 2015


As a matter of… cat

Photo: Twitter – Milkay Photography


Eyes / Ochi

In a far away land there is a city with hundreds of wise houses. Each house has a roof, a soul and an attic with two windows. Eyes scrutinize the birds that get back to their nests late at night, the grannies that bake homemade bread, the blatant children playing outside, the flowers raising their heads in the sun, the cats that purr in hidden corners, the dogs hiding their precious bones, the women that dream of the return of their husbands and the husbands dreaming of other women.

Every day opens a new color, a new hope, ends a life and begins others. Every evening sends to sleep all the rippled memories of the day, all the children and cats and birds and wives and husbands. Some of the grannies will sleep longer, other babies will get born out of the dreams of past nights. Some of the flowers will grow seeds, others will bloom, the stars will seem to rotate on the sky awaiting the rays of the same sun that has opened the eyes of all the children and women and cats and husbands and grannies and birds.

When morning comes the smell of coffee invades the streets. It fills up the sky and the staircases of all houses. As eyes open life vibrates, noises clash in the air, birds sing again, cats lick meticulously their paws and wash their furs with slow movements on the edge of wide open windows, dogs inspect every corner of their territory, children moan instead of waking up, wives pack lunch for their husbands, husbands go to work hoping that the day will be better that the other days. And even though life seems the same, it is always different.
In the city where houses have eyes life can still flow in unexpected patterns. ochi2Houses have eyes in Sibiu, Romania.

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Intr-o tara indepartata exista un oras cu sute de case intelepte. Fiecare casa are un acoperis, un suflet si un pod cu doua ferestre. Ochi privesc cu mare atentie pasarile care se intorc la cuiburile lor noaptea, bunicile care coc paine de casa, copiii galagiosi care se joaca pe afara, florile care isi ridica frumosul cap in soare, pisicile care torc in colturi ascunse, cainii care isi ascund mult iubitele oase, femeile care viseaza cu ochii deschisi la intoarcerea barbatilor lor si barbatii care viseaza la cu totul alte femei.

Fiecare zi deschide o noua culoare, o noua speranta, sfarseste o noua viata si incepe altele. Fiecare seara trimite la culcare toate amintirile ondulate ale zilei, toti copiii si toate pisicile si toate pasarile si toate nevestele si toti barbatii. Unele bunici vor dormi mai mult, alti copii se vor naste din visele noptilor care au trecut. Unele flori vor face seminte, altele vor inflori, stelele vor parea ca se rotesc pe cer asteptand razele aceluiasi soare care a deschis ochii tuturor copiiilor si femeilor si pisicilor si barbatilor si bunicilor si pasarilor.

Cand vine dimineata aroma de cafea napadeste toate strazile. Umple cerul si casele scarilor. In timp ce ochii se deschid, viata vibreaza, zgomote se ciocnesc in aer, pasari canta din nou, pisici isi ling meticulos labele si isi spala blana cu miscari foarte tacticoase pe marginea ferestrelor larg deschise, caini inspecteaza fiecare colt al teritoriului lor, copii gem in loc sa se trezeasca, neveste impacheteaza pranzul pentru barbatii lor, barbati merg la lucru sperand ca ziua va fi mai buna decat alte zile. Si desi viata pare la fel, este mai totdeauna diferita.

In orasul in care casele au ochi viata poate inca sa se scurga in tipare cu totul neasteptate.

Casele au ochi in Sibiu, Romania.

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300 words / 300 de cuvinte,

Story and Translation / Poveste si Traducere : memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu October 2013 / July 2015

Photo- Photobucket


Dinu Lipatti – Sonata for the good man / Sonata pentru omul bun

A tribute to Dinu Lipatti, “Greatest pianist after Frédéric Chopin”( as Yehudi Menuhin said).

Tribut lui Dinu Lipatti, “cel mai mare pianist după Frédéric Chopin” (dupa cum a spus Yehudi Menuhin).

“Lipatti- Sonata for the good man” is a sensible portrait of the composer, pianist and teacher Dinu Constantin Lipatti. The documentary brings to light , from the still rich TVR(Romanian Television) Archive, anthological interviews with Florica Musicescu, Nadia Boulanger,  the two biographers of Lipatti, Grigore Bărgăuanu and Dragoş Tănăsescu, and Menuhin.
You are watching a documentary signed by Ruxandra Ţuchel.

„Lipatti- Sonată pentru omul bun” creionează un portret emoţionat al celui care a fost compozitorul pianistul şi pedagogul Dinu Constantin Lipatti. Documentarul aduce la lumină, din Arhiva încă bogată a TVR, interviuri antologice cu Florica Musicescu, cu Nadia Boulanger, cu cei doi biografi ai lui Lipatti, Grigore Bărgăuanu şi Dragoş Tănăsescu, cu Menuhin. Urmăriţi un documentar semnat Ruxandra Ţuchel

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memyselfandela, © Adela Galasiu, 2015

Video source: Youtube.


Heart / Inima / Coeur / Herz

The Heart is

Nothing but a bunch

Of feelings.

————

Inima nu e altceva

Decat un buchet

De sentimente.

—————-

Le coeur n’est rien

Qu’un bouquet

De sentiments.

————————

Das Herz ist

Nichts als ein Strauß

Der Gefühle.

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9 words, English, Romanian, French, German – Memyselfandela/ Adela Galasiu, July 2015

Music: Dinu Lipatti playing Chopin Barcarolle for piano in F sharp major op 60 B 158, Youtube

Photos: Photobucket


Paris

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romantic and bohemian
like a poem

mine and nobodies
of sad heart and wondering thought

brilliant and wrapped in gold cover
like the smile of a lover

city of tear and reverie
beautiful Paris

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romantic si boem
ca un poem

al meu si al nimanui
de inima trista si gand haihui

stralucitor si poleit
ca zambetul unui iubit

oras de lacrima si vis
frumos Paris

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romantique et boheme
comme un poeme

a moi et a toute personne
de coeur triste et pensee qui etonne

brilliant et toute dore
comme la sourire d’un bien aime

ville de larme et reverie
toute belle Paris

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Poem in Romanian, English, French , memyselfandela / Adela Galasiu, July 2015

Photos: imagessource

Paris

“Je marche dans tes rues / I walk on your streets / Merg pe strazile tale
Qui me marchent sur les pieds / Which in turn step on my feet / Care imi merg pe talpi
Je bois dans tes cafés / I drink in your cafes / Beau in cafenelele tale

Je traîne dans tes métros / I hang around in your metros / Imi pierd vremea in metrourile tale
Tes trottoirs m’aiment un peu trop / Your sidewalks love me a bit too much / Trotuarele tale ma iubesc un pic prea mult
Je rêve dans tes bistrots / I dream in your bistros / Visez in bistrourile tale

Je m’assoie sur tes bancs / I sit down on your benches / Ma asez pe bancile tale
Je regarde tes monuments / I look at your monuments / Iti privesc monumentele
Je trinque à la santé de tes amants / I raise a toast to the health of your lovers / Toastez pentru sanatatea amantilor tai

Je laisse couler ta Seine / I let your Seine flow / Las Senna sa curga
Sous tes ponts, ta rengaine / Under your bridges, your tune / Sub podurile tale, melodia ta
Toujours après la peine / Always after the sorrows / Totdeauna dupa necazuri

Je pleure dans tes taxis / I cry in your taxis / Plang in taxiurile tale
Quand tu brilles sous la pluie / When you shine under the rain / Cand tu stralucesti sub ploaie
Ce que t’es belle en pleine nuit / How beautiful you are, in the middle of the night / Cat de frumos esti in plina noapte

Je pisse dans tes caniveaux / I take a piss in your gutters / Urinez in rigolele tale
C’est de la faute a Hugo / It’s all (Victor) Hugo’s fault / E vina lui (Victor) Hugo
Et je picolle en argot / And I get drunk in jargon / Si ma imbat in jargon

Je dors dans tes hôtels / I sleep in your hotels / Dorm in hotelurile tale
J’adore ta tour Eiffel / I adore your Eiffel Tower / Iti ador turnul Eiffel
Au moins elle, elle est fidèle / It, at least, is faithful / Cel putin el e credincios

Quand je te quitte un peu loin / When I leave you a little later / Cand te parasesc un pic departe
Tu ressembles au chagrin / You look just like sadness / Pari a fi doar tristete
Ça me fait un mal de chien / It hurts me so freaking much / Sufar ca un caine

Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much? / Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux / Paris, whatever you want / Paris, paris, orice vrei
Boulevard des bouleverses / Boulevard of distress / Bulevard al suferintei
Paris tu m’as renversé / Paris, you knocked me off my feet / Paris, m-ai daramat
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit

Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much?/ Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux/ Paris, whatever you want / Paris, orice vrei
Paris, Paris, tenu / Paris, Paris , once had / Paris, Paris, avut
Paris, Paris, perdu / Paris, Paris, lost / Paris , Paris, pierdut
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit
Sur ton pavé / On your pavement/ Pe pavajul tau

Je me réveille dans tes bras / I wake up in your arms / Ma trezesc in bratele tale
Sur tes quais y’a de la joie / On your docks, there is joy / Pe docurile tale e bucurie
Et des loups dans tes bois / And in your woods, there are wolves / Si in padurile tale lupi

Je me glisse dans tes cinés / I slip into your cinemas / Ma strecor in cinematografele tale
Je me perds dans ton quartier / I get lost in your neighbourhood / Ma pierd in cartierul tau
Je m’y retrouverai jamais / I will never manage to find my way there / Nu-mi voi gasi calea niciodata acolo

Je nage au fil de tes gares / I swim in the course of your train stations / Inot pe cursul statiilor tale de tren
Et mon regarde s’égare / And my gaze wanders / Si privirea mea rataceste
Je vois passer des cafards sur tes bars / I see cockroaches moving about on your bars / Vad trecand gandaci pe barurile tale

Je m’accroche aux réverbères / I hang on to the lampposts / Ma agat de felinare
Tes pigeons manquent pas d’air / Your pigeons have some nerve / Porumbeii tai au tupeu
Et moi de quoi j’ai l’air? / And me, what do I look like? / Si eu, eu cum arat?

Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much? / Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux / Paris, whatever you want / Paris, paris, orice vrei
Boulevard des bouleverses / Boulevard of distress / Bulevard al suferintei
Paris tu m’as renversé / Paris, you knocked me off my feet / Paris, m-ai daramat
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit

Paris, Paris, combien? / Paris, Paris, how much?/ Paris, Paris, cat de mult?
Paris tout ce que tu veux/ Paris, whatever you want / Paris, orice vrei
Paris, Paris, tenu / Paris, Paris , once had / Paris, Paris, avut
Paris, Paris, perdu / Paris, Paris, lost / Paris , Paris, pierdut
Paris tu m’as laissé / Paris, you left me / Paris, m-ai parasit
Sur ton pavé / On your pavement/ Pe pavajul tau

Je marche dans tes rues / I walk on your streets / Merg pe strazile tale
Qui me marchent sur les pieds / Which in turn step on my feet / Care imi merg pe talpi
Je bois dans tes cafés / I drink in your cafes / Beau in cafenelele tale

Je traîne dans tes métros / I hang around in your metros / Imi pierd vremea in metrourile tale
Tes trottoirs m’aiment un peu trop / Your sidewalks love me a bit too much / Trotuarele tale ma iubesc un pic prea mult
Je rêve dans tes bistrots / I dream in your bistros / Visez in bistrourile tale ”

Souad Massi & Marc Lavoine – Paris

Lyrics Translation : French- English – Romanian – Adela Galasiu July 2015


Barefoot Soul / Suflet Descult

My barefoot soul walks on your old stone paved streets

Resting quiet in front of Holy Wisdom…

Wanders like a sleepwalker among lemon trees and lavender
Smiling at the olives and grapes that will become your oil and wine…

My liquid soul melts in the hot air
And becomes the good wind that spins all your windmills…

My fragile sunburnt soul
Throws itself into the sea with the crying seagulls
And gets born again from the foam and the ashes of all dormant volcanos…

My silent soul laughs at the sight of your eyes, you must be sure of that…

And when it gets tired it returns like a child
To sleep, wrapped and clean, inside the most hidden drawer
Waiting for you to open it again.

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Sufletul meu descult paseste pe vechile tale strazi pietruite

Odihnindu-se tacut in fata Sfintei Intelepciuni…

Rataceste ca un somnambul printre lamai si lavanda
Zambind maslinelor si strugurilor ce vor deveni uleiul si vinul tau…

Sufletul meu lichid se topeste in aerul fierbinte
Si devine vantul bun care invarte toate morile tale de vant…

Sufletul meu fragil parjolit de soare
Se arunca in mare cu pescarusii tipand
Si se naste din nou din spuma si cenusa tuturor vulcanilor adormiti…

Sufletul meu mut rade la vederea ochilor tai, fii sigur de asta

Si cand oboseste se intoarce ca un copil
Sa doarma , impaturit si curat, in cel mai ascuns sertar
Asteptand ca tu sa il deschizi din nou.

Memyselfandela, 2010

Photo: photobucket


Did you smile today? :)

funny-cat-gifs-040-003 (1)


True Love

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Just like any of you I have experienced life in a multitude of facets, from love to loss, from friendship to betrayal, from adversity to success, from good to evil.

As I grew up I found it hard to learn who is a friend and who is fake around me. But in time I have learned a simple thing that is extremely powerful: “you know a tree by the fruits”. The same applies to people, you know the character of a person by their actions. Once you establish this, it takes not very much time to separate good people from evil people and users from people who share generously their true love.

I have personally known many bad people and not so many really good people. And the amazing thing was that bad people have appeared and then suddenly disappeared from my life, while good people have always been there, constant and reliable, even if distant at times. Bad people are a sad memory, but good people have truly marked my life. Bad people I have certainly forgotten, yet the good people will always be in my mind and I will always love them. True good people and true friends are like stars shining in the night. Every simple little thing they do with you or for you brings you joy and guides you on the sometimes dark path of your life.

There are many so called friends out there that never support you or take your energy but never care for you. They expect you to always listen to their problems but they never bother to ask you how you are. They take advantage of all your support, they take all they can from you, but when you face bad times they fail you embarrassingly in the least expected moments. If you know such people, get them out of your life and carry on. Imagine them as fleas on your jacket, just get them off you and carry on, you will learn from the experience and it will make you stronger. The true friends would never betray you, never despise you, never laugh at you, never share your secrets, never purposely hurt you, even if you are absolutely broken, or especially then. Friend is someone who loves you as you are, with all your flaws, someone who supports you no matter what, who may criticise you but who unconditionally truly loves you.
An act of true love is to help others knowing you have no expectation of reward, benefit or praise. I have met few people in my life who have done just that, and to whom I am forever grateful. They are not only very kind and generous people, but they are also humble, private and very intelligent as well. It is as if God’s goodness is spread through their hand.

There is a Christian saying : “do not let your left hand know what you left hand is doing”- meaning that if you help someone you should not brag about it, nobody but God should know about it. All I know is that there is a karma, and that one day God will repay the love and goodness with much more love and goodness in return.

What will God do with the bad and the traitors? No idea. I have seen karma at work. I have seen people having only bad luck in all their actions and not realise that they were treating other people around them very badly, causing them lots of grief.

What we give returns to us, sooner or later.

Food for thought my friends.

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600 words, memyselfandela, July 2015

Photo: Twitter


Thought of the day

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Luna Amara / Bitter Moon

This is a simple story that happened in the moonlight. A story streaming from my own life. A story about a small moment that will remain for life in my memory.

Maybe many of you have a favourite band. And I bet many of you have hoped or dreamed To get the unique moment to meet the vocalist they like so much , or shake hands with the guitarist they consider to be the best in the world- maybe it is not so for others, but it is so for them.

My very favourite Romanian rock band is Luna Amara, a Romanian alternative rock/grunge band. The name means “Bitter Moon” in Romanian, and has been borrowed from the Roman Polanski movie of the same name, inspired by Pascal Bruckner’s novel with the same name.The band was formed by Nick Făgădar (vocals, guitar) and Gheorghe Farcaş (bass guitar) in Cluj-Napoca, Transylvania, in September 1999, in Romania. I had the chance to listen to them first time live in Sibiu, and I have discovered them much more after I left Romania in 2011.

Luna Amara has played on stage over 200 times in the past years, throughout Romania. As a live act, this Romanian five-piece outfit has a style that combines heavy metal with alternative rock. Luna Amara is also the first Romanian band to introduce the trumpet sound into an Alternative Rock style, a struck of genius in my humble opinion.

All the artists in the band try to dedicate their lives to promote and support a modern European society in Romania. Beyond the poetry in the love songs , their lyrics have often a political message, Luna Amară being also involved in ecological projects such as “Save Vama Veche” (protecting the endangered seahorses), “Save Roşia Montană” (protecting the wildlife and natural surroundings of a mountain area from cyanide poisoning caused by companies that extract gold) and other social awareness projects.

“Luna Amară” is one of Romania’s most successful rock bands and was the top selling artist in a national chain of music stores (Hollywood Music & Film) from July until September 2004. Their songs “Folclor” (“Folklore”), “Gri Dorian” (“Dorian Grey”), “Roşu aprins” (“Scarlet”) and “Ego nr. 4” reached number one in airplay charts at local radio stations around the country.

Throughout the years they have released several albums: “Asfalt” (Asphalt), “Loc lipsă” (Missing Place), “Don’t Let Your Dreams Fall Asleep”(where mainly the acoustic side of the band is underlined), “Pietre in Alb” (Stones in White), “Live la Conti” (Live at Conti). The band performed tours all over Romania in clubs and open air locations as well as shows in the Netherlands, Germany, Bulgaria, Turkey and played live at the Sziget Festival in Budapest.


They may be neither angels, nor heroes, but they are some extremely talented people. It is more than their personal love and feelings decanted in their music, it is also their passion and talent for music. I used to detach myself from stress listening to Deftones, Metallica and Incubus, but they are nowhere near Luna Amara. At least to me, because I am Romanian and Bitter Moon sing the longing and the pain in my native language. But it is not only this. I have discovered such beautiful blue sad profound lyrics attached to their music. They contribute with amazing poetry, not only with extremely versatile sound. Their songs are colourful, they bleed and ache, they are just beautifully alive.

Two years ago when I was back in Romania for few days I have tried desperately to buy their “Stones in White” album, yet no music shop or online store had it available, it was sold out. After a long online research I managed to find a link and I was promised to get the album the next night, when I was going back to Cluj in the evening for my next morning flight back to the UK.

The evening came, I took a taxi and we drove in the evening to the address where the recording studio was. It was a very simple encounter, but it has struck me very profoundly: Nick Fagadar, the founder of Luna Amara, met me almost in the middle of the night because he cared that somebody really wanted to have their album. He handed it to me with a kind smile , he shook my hand like a friend , with no pretentious gestures, and wished me to enjoy the music. I have been truly honoured not only to get the long desired album, but mostly by getting to meet in person the legend behind it.

There was something beautiful that I cannot describe radiating through him as we left him behind. I could not help but smile. The moon was shining, yet this time not bitter, but full of hope and mysterious meanings.

800 words, Memyselfandela , 2015

Photos: Google

Video: Youtube


Bread as you have never seen before


Video

white bishop

memyselfandela

White Bishop – Emeric Imre

“now I am emptier than ever

since I feel more and more rich of you

and the sun and the moon stay on my temples

now I am the worst and the best

and look, there is nobody to help us

the world barely holds her own weight

and in a white wall of mute muses

the black bishops look for a path

and I love you with pitty and horror
all that is yours belongs to me
like a white bishop that captures
the black queen for eternity

I miss you and I look for your face

in every corner of existance

if I take the sand in my han

I feel a ring playing the game of bride and groom

I hear you in battles from time to time

the soldiers of your guards honour you

my beloved with very great problems

with…

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