Dreams of Dreams

Sogni di Sogni.

Antonio Tabucchi

Laughing Lhursday*

Dog poo DNA test launches in Barking . . .

 

* [For first time visitors]:

Typo in the title?
Nah.
It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.

 

From Moscow with Love

Youth is such wonderful a thing. 
Isn't it a shame it's wasted on children?

Or why would I have made a clipping of this pic in the early 90s?

55 Years ago

Children of Gabalawi

Children of our Alley

Naguib Mahfouz (December 11, 1911 – August 30, 2006)

Snow – now and then

Today's snow's nothing
compared to many winters
many years ago.

My silent Friday

Forough Farrokhzad (1935-1967)

My silent Friday,

My deserted Friday,

My Friday: sad, like old abandoned lanes.

My Friday:

The cold day of ailing, idle thoughts,

Moist day of long, evil bore,

loaded with grief,

grief for my faith, for my hope,

Oh, my Friday, this renouncing day

…

Oh, this empty room,

Oh, this gloomy house…

These isolating walls from attacks of youth,

These collapsing roofs on my slight daydream of light,

In this place of lone, reflection and doubt,

In this space of shade, text, image and sign.

My life, like a mysterious river,

streamed into those silent, deserted days,

so calmly with a lot of pride.

My life, like a mysterious river,

Streamed into those empty, gloomy rooms,

so calmly with a lot of pride.

Translation: Maryam Dilmaghani From the website Forough Farrokhzad The Sad Little Fairy

Sea of Stories

Haroun and the Sea of Stories

Salman Rushdie

Numero Zero

Good read.

Umberto Eco

Chris' Pie

Why wait till Easter?
'Incredible' recipe
is to be found here.

On the Road

Rain, rain, rain . . .

Die Tutoren

It's not been translated into English yet,
and perhaps will never be.
Its author has not even an English wiki-entry, yet.
It would be an intellectual challenge, you see.

Bora Ċosiċ

Surpr_eye_se

Resisting the frost
some hollyhocks of Seanhenge
blooming in winter