The better Part of Valour

Watching the wanderer.

On the Road

Winter?

The Cats of Copenhagen

copyright issue
for greedy cats of Dublin.
Fuck the Joyce estate.

James Joyce (2 February 1882 – 13 January 1941)

Laughing Lhursday*

Two moons.

* [For first time visitors]:

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

Sentinel

Kind of a muse ...

Winterly Cherry Tree

Balcony view

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