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Mouth all bunged up by the clay,With them worms I'm takin' issue –Can't git out of this here grave,Thump you good, forgive you, kiss you…(Gypsy-band song) Let whoever's willing say Of all earthly things death's best. I'll deny that any

If ever I ventured to write a treatise on the savoir vivre, I would not neglect to address, in an entire chapter, the art of whiling away. It seems to me that this type of happiness – which is, equally, an admirable instrument of knowledge – has long been forgotten.

Safta was a victim of her past of love affairs and amorous generosity, but also of the human decay from the madhouse times and from all times. The former chanteuse had decided, the night when she ordered the enamoured shopkeeper to break the fiddles of the fiddlers, to give

The English-speaking people do not have a perfect equivalent for the French joie de vivre. The latter conveys the accord between body and soul, the excitement at the prospects of the future (advienne que pourra), the feeling of well-being (se sentir bien dans sa peau).

Have you noticed the relaxed way in which we actually re-create ourselves in our times off? Dem lieben Gott die Tage stehlen – Germans refer to the waste of time as to a theft committed in the face of God. I remember an episode during my student years, when, at the close

The bohemia, the obnoxious, damned bohemia kills and often not only figuratively. My stomach, for example, stood defeated, alongside with the bowels, the sphincters, the liver, the brains and in consequence all inspiration, exactly on Friday, the deadline for my article.

excerpt The loaded boats – from time to time you can hear the thumping of a strong fish striking against the freshly tarred wood – are lined up in the narrow canal, towed by Michea's tug. Come on, you dark-bay horse, take me to my beloved, don't tarry! Timosca

I'll be 33 in no time. I met Liza yesterday. My friend, Nae Curcă, is also in love with Liza. He met her at the swimming pool last summer. When he passed by her, she asked him:Stop fiddling, will ya'?Liza was with a friend of hers. Curcă promptly reacted. He

click here for fragment from the movie XIVexcerpt On the contrary, I had been dominated by a celebratory feeling ever since I had left the house. The city, under the sun of an August morning, seemed to celebrate too. Was it a reflection of my frame of mind? I have always

On some days I feel universal when listening to Hora în căruţă (Jig in the Cart); I can even picture a cart then, all its joints rattling among the frozen missiles of the world. I get dizzy and a teardrop warms up the Murmansk under my eyelids. Hora Stacatto (Stacatto

I was playing belote – ancient surrealism heralding as its ultimatevalues the nine and the Jack, nobody knows why, some poets claim this is an idea meant to consecrate the troubadour and the portal he passes under at night – I waspeacefully playing one evening in a house

It's beautiful, it couldn't be more beautifulthe morning when, after you've washed,after you've shaved, after you've cleanedyour razor blade, your brush, after you've glimpsedyourself in the mirror and discovered no causeof alarm on your face