"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

Posts tagged “English

Water lily / Nufar

The beauty in God’s dream
slowly blooms, petal by petal,
watched quietly by the whole being
in a breath of silent bliss.

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Frumusetea din visul lui Dumnezeu
Infloreste incet, petala cu petala,
privita tacut de o intreaga faptura
intr-o rasuflare de beatitudine fara zgomot.

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22 words / 22 de cuvinte , Memyselfandela – Adela Galasiu, August 2015

Photo: Memyselfandela – Adela Galasiu, August 2015


Soul / Suflet

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The soul levitates above the ground
longing dreamy to
move its roots into heaven.

The matter’s consistency
stridently burdens the light
reflected by the heart.

Some say we cannot stop the moment
yet I still believe that we can
trap it within the soul’s walls.

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Sufletul leviteaza deasupra pamantului
tanjind visator sa
isi mute radacinile in cer.

Consistenta materiei
ingreuneaza in mod strident lumina
reflectata de inima.

Unii spun ca nu avem posibilitatea sa oprim clipa
si totusi eu inca mai cred ca o putem
tine prinsa intre peretii sufletului.

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45 words / 45 de cuvinte, memyselfandela – Adela Galasiu, August, 2015

Photos: Adela Galasiu, Wild Strawberries/ Fragi


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


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.


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