"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."

Di tutto il dolore del mondo


Con troppe lacrime piangi, Maria,
solo l’immagine di un’agonia:
sai che alla vita nel terzo giorno
il figlio tuo farà ritorno.
Lascia a noi piangere un po’ più forte
chi non risorgerà più dalla morte.


Spooktober

Spooktober 29 – The Black Monk (4)

Chapter 7 One long winter night Kovrin was lying in bed, reading a French novel. Poor Tanya, who had headaches in the evenings from living in town, to which she was not accustomed, had been asleep a long while, and, from time to time, articulated

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technology

Hey, teacher, leave the bumblebee alone

Every few months it comes back. A pencil drawing of a bee, a quote in a serif font, and different authorities invoked as the source: aerodynamically speaking, the bee cannot fly, but it doesn’t know that, so it flies anyway. It gets shared and liked,

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Spooktober

Spooktober 28 – The Black Monk (3)

Chapter 5 Glad that he had been so successful in the part of peacemaker, Kovrin went into the park. Sitting on a garden seat, thinking, he heard the rattle of a carriage and a feminine laugh — visitors were arriving. When the shades of evening

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1 Comment
  • Shelidon
    Posted at 08:15h, 28 October Reply

    Il post è in risposta ad una persona che, per “consolare il mio dolore”, mi ha inviato questo articolo.

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