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Some sudden deaths in our small town, my love – I've come on purpose, just to let you know. Upon their biers, in town, for too much heat,The corpses decompose ever so slow.  The quick are in like manner decomposed,Their very dust is sweating in the heat;I can smell

The 20th of April 1920Pynx will undoubtedly arrive soon, just like he arrived yesterday and every day, every week and every month of every of the last years. Fever and anxiety infringe upon the depth of feelings. My home? What do I call home? It is wherever I am; it is,

One should add to the romantic universe of Berlioz, Chopin, Liszt and Wagner the love story of Maria Cantacuzino and the composer George Enescu, as the mystery of its extraordinary tension has been revealed in the recently published Ombres et lumières, Souvenirs d'une

excerpt Yes, she is thoroughly preoccupied with each client's history. It is a sort of sadism of hers or an imaginary compensation. She takes part in the emotions and ups and downs of every story. She dreams of the many Don Juans, husbands and lovers whose voluntary

excerpt Sunday finally came. The rain had stopped falling. The patients were all taken out to get some fresh air. They were all sitting side by side in their wheelchairs under a narrow canopy made of sullied cloth that was once yellow but had now been washed out by the

excerpt Close to our home there was a shop that sold sewing machines, where I used to go day after day and spend hours on end. The owner was a young boy, Eugen, who had just completed the compulsory military service and had found a way to make a living in the city by opening

The book about fleshexcerpt I absolutely have to tell you in detail everything that happened in my wedding bed, on which we lay down as though on an operating table, Ferdinand Sinidis grumpily intervened. I really want to stick to the subject, although it might seem that

9But the candidates were not equally possessed by the same feelings and consideration for the servants in the house. A student in classics had been surprised by the mistress with the kitchen maid, a swarthy wench from the south, with two golden round butterflies for ears

N. D. Cocea (1880-1949): The Psychological Analysis of InfidelityWhat got into you, saleslady? / How come you hold your head so high / Over a black patch? That's how an old suburban song goes. Pentr-un petec de negreata / Over a Black Patch is also the title of the

excerpt  When I came back from the town, I found a note on my table: Come to the library! I met Maitreyi, who told me, terrified: Khokha knows!I tried to look undisturbed and to persuade her that it didn't mean anything. Maitreyi stared at me, clasping my hands, as

XVMiss Christina stood there, very close to him, with her breasts uncovered, her hair loose, waiting. Egor, you're humiliating me! he could hear her thoughts. Turn off the lamp, come closer!Egor tried in vain to resist. He could feel Miss Christina's command in

excerpt The more we drew near the little hamlet, the more I felt in my heart the finger of a tremor stirring up the layers of tranquility. And although I tried to shake off this unwanted mood, my eyes were looking round stealthily, for the hillock we would climb, on which