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From Bucovina To New Zealand, Or Destined To Three Countries

When I set out to New Zealand, I had a tape recorder and a tape with the bells from Putna monastery. And during the long flight, from Bucharest to Wellington – approximately 30 hours on the plane, plus two stopovers – I would listen to the bells from Putna and to the

Journey Into The Unknown

For centuries now, every once in three years, The Feast of Immortality – Kumbh Mela, takes place alternatively in four Indian centers : Allahabad and Hardwar (Uttar Pradesh state), Ujjain (Madhya Pradesh) and Nasik (Maharashtra). Descending from Vedic mythology, the feast

Aristide Caradja, Princeps Biologorum Romaniae

I did not meet the great, indefatigable entomologist Aristide Caradja (1861-1955), but everything I have found out about him from firsthand sources has helped me understand he was a unique personality, an absolutely fascinating man. It is undoubtedly an indirect kind of

Poor Ioanide

excerpts IV In his office on the ground floor, Saferian, on a chair and surrounded by four men, all standing, was contemplating an oil portrait, set near them against the back of an ordinary straw chair. It is an Ingres, most certainly, said one of the four, a man with trimmed

The Eternal Return

An interior made for appearance, fitting the extravagance of some poems In the beginning, gazing at the photos, I stood in the doorway and had the feeling of entering a house deserted by its owners, where I was left with the secret of its nature hidden inside the still

The Slătineanu Comparative Art Collection - An Extinct Art Museum

1947. The year of the most despotic deeds of the communist regime come to power in the shadow of the Soviet tanks. The ordeal of the Romanian intellectual elites (and not only) begins. The Slătineanu family find themselves treated like common criminals. The whole family

Epitaph On A Săpânţa Grave

(see pictures from The Merry Graveyard in Sapanta) SINCE INTO THIS WORLD I CAME STAN ION PATRAS WAS MY NAME NOW LISTEN TO ME GUYSI'M NOT TELLING YOU LIES FOR AS LONG AS I LIVEDI WISHED NO-ONE ILL NEVER DIDBUT TO ANYONE I COULDI ALWAYS DID A LOT OF GOOD ALAS MY POOR

Squander Your Time

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.

Love In The Waste Lot

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

Without ©

There's moths cooking in the lampshade… the spider web connects the bed sheet to the floor……in my bed of planks, with silk bedding, with swan down… From: arian21x@yahoo. comTo: flu_viu_mm@yahoo. com A (neo)bohemian is living in Bucharest and doesn't imagine

Further Stories Of The Amazonian Jungle

It would have been extremely cheerful at the Beer Festival if we hadn't been jostling each other so hard. And how on Earth could we have avoided the hassle when, even for one single Alutus beer, one had to cross an Amazonian forest guarded by a swarm of viracocha tribes,

Apartment 93

excerpts (This article is prohibited to my parents, as it may contain: scenes of moderate physical violence, alcohol consumption, conduct which may be easily imitated by said parents, etc. ) I think that my first Bohemian period started off in an unsuspecting leave taken