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Quote by Mircea M. Țara

“În timp ce lama lui Vel dansa, a lui Lied cânta. Sărea din scut în scut, creând o simfonie șuierătoare, vibrantă, o baladă a săbiilor, spusă de-a lungul tăișului, cu înflorituri de sânge, acompaniată de scântei și oase rupte, de carnea sfâșiată și de tânguirea metalului ce lua o viață. Era un cântec trist. Sângeros. Macabru. Și, cu toate acestea, un cântec despre viață.”

Quote by Mircea M. Țara

Work

Inima Dragonului

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Author

Mircea M. Țara

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“Kilio kikuu cha Yesu, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabakthani?”, yaani, “Mungu wangu, Mungu wangu, mbona umeniacha?”, na “Imekwisha”, vilitabiriwa katika Zaburi 22 ili watu waliompinga Kristo waamini kama Yesu alikuwa Masihi. Zaburi 22 ulikuwa wimbo maarufu katika kipindi cha karne ya kwanza, kipindi ambacho Yesu alizaliwa na kufa, uliotungwa na mfalme Daudi, ulioitwa ‘zaburi ya mateso na matumaini ya mwadilifu’. Kwa hiyo Yesu aliposema maneno hayo yaliwaingia watu akilini, na kuanzia hapo imani hasa ya Ukristo ikachukua kasi hadi leo hii. Zaburi 22 inaanza na “Mungu wangu, Mungu wangu, mbona umeniacha?” na inaisha na “Imekwisha”, miongoni mwa maneno saba aliyoyasema Yesu pale msalabani Golgotha. Kwa hiyo, Zaburi 22 ni utabiri wa kifo cha Yesu.”

“Blue skies Smiling at me Nothing but blue skies Do I see Bluebirds Singing a song Nothing but bluebirds All day long Never saw the sun shining so bright Never saw things going so right Noticing the days hurrying by When you're in love, my how they fly Blue days All of them gone Nothing but blue skies From now on I never saw the sun shining so bright Never saw things going oh-so right Noticing the days hurrying by When you're in love, my how they fly Blue days All of them gone Nothing but blue skies From now on Songwriter: Irving Berlin”

“I have become intoxicated again. You are such a potent wine, my friend. To escape your withdrawal effects, tomorrow I will drink in excess. Alas, why make me love? I was aware, conscious, and sensible before. I am ill by cause of this illusion. The devil plays tricks on me more and more. I was a harp you immaculately plucked at will. Your score, the nightingale song within notes composed to imprison and bear me wings. Oh, if only they could hear how it sings! I am now beyond parched. My strings left untouched. You are no longer an oasis, my friend, but a mirage soon coming to an end.”