Italia

The three of them are filling in soccer betting slips and drinking cold beer. About the beer they seem to agree. Over the match results there is much argument. Cut my head off if these don't lose, the one in an otter fur hat says. The one in the very large rimmed hat

Taking large strides with his long legs adorned with double-red stripes, the colonel - a brigadier with one star splitting the waves of the crowd who drew back like the Red Sea before Moses, advanced, dry and black like a cigar, to board the gunboat Oituz which, shining

COMMUNISM IS THE GREATEST FAILURE IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND At the recent congress of the delegations of Communist parties from all over the world, held in Berlin, many well-known things have been reiterated: satellite-countries will continue to live under the Soviet umbrella,

Alfredo Casella: Enescu is delicate and sensitive, communicative too, like all Latins. Despite his spontaneous and amazingly rich inventiveness, his creation illustrates a process of will, which no artist can overlook. I have seen such a perfect accord between intention

As a princely seat Bucharest was once, for the Romanian authorities, a citadel watched over by God just like Byzantium was for the Eastern Christian world. Then, naturally, it was also the place where scholars needed by the Prince's Chancellery made their studies. They

Let us not be deceived by articles and books issued by courtesy or for which we pay, and this so seldom. We are not loved abroad. Even if people remember the fine welcome we give people – which is so comprehensive according to the customs, and at times even sufficiently

Among the elements making up the soulful repository of the Romanian people there is none to include more and to bespeak truer than its very language. In connection with this Romanian idiom – which, with due additions, proved apt to voice any idea, no matter how lofty,

Women artists (originally women-painters) became a reality in Romanian culture only by the turn of the 20th century. Barely having an artistic tradition of the western kind (that is, academic), the national cultural milieu in the 19th century was rather deprived of a professionally

I saw an ad in newspapers about a trip to the mountains and I got in without knowing anybody. About 30 of us crowded in a big race vehicle, so boys and girls, parcels, cigarette smoke, and jokes mixed up together at random. A certain Biţă was speaking in my ear untiringly.

excerpts First of all I have to recall that moment of my life which was the origin of the incidents that I will evoke in these confessions. It was the instant – so dramatic to me – when I first saw Alba. But right in that moment, which twisted so many years that were

Iaşi, July 12, 1942. We get news from Bucharest that Marshal Ion Antonescu is seriously ill in Predeal. All kinds of versions about his disease, general anemia or the consequences of an old syphilis, so he had to undergo malaria treatment. Meanwhile, it seems that the old

Paris, February 7th, 1939The phone wakes me up: it's George, who calls me from Algiers. He keeps waiting for his plane to be repaired. The thought that he left on an old jade – as he says – worries me. I remember my mother-in-law's words and I agree with her: