The Bright Side of Life: To be or not to be, that is the question...

June 25, 2012

To be or not to be, that is the question...

Ma gîndeam ca-i arde una! Totusi s-a abtinut. Big Boy Mike, este un educat :D . Samulici, e un golan raut si obraznic foc. I-a înhatat coada cu dintii si ghearele, în joaca bineînteles, dar Mike nu prea i-a gustat gluma, iar Sam se facea ca ploua. Adevarul e, ca el nu prea stie sa se joace decît nebuneste si este înca nesigur... fac bine, nu fac?... În mare, îl respecta pe Mike, dar cîteodata îl depasesc hormonii tineri si zburdalnici, si-i mai sare sefului în cap. Din cauza asta, Sam, mai primeste cîte una peste ceafa de la Mike :)

"Baaaah! Termina odata!"
"Eu? Da' ce-am facut? N-am facut nimic, nici nu am fost aici cînd s-a întîmplat.
S-a întîmplat ceva? Nici nu stiu despre ce este vorba, eu sînt un cuminte si jumatate!"

13 comments:

DorinaJune 26, 2012 at 8:58 AM
Poza asta e de pus in rama :))
ReplyDelete
Replies
AnonymousJune 28, 2012 at 3:01 PM
Dragul de Sam el e tot intr-o joaca!sper sa nu-l abtiguie prea tare!pupici la pisici,mirela!
ReplyDelete
Replies
AnonymousJune 28, 2012 at 6:44 PM
scrie mai des Maya...va iubesc tare de tot :*
tam.
ReplyDelete
Replies
AnonymousJune 30, 2012 at 6:46 PM
imi place "noul look"al blogului!pupici la pisici!mirela
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaJuly 1, 2012 at 6:05 PM
Dorina, da, pricirea aia lui Mikiduta! :D
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaJuly 1, 2012 at 6:06 PM
Mirela, da, sam nu se mai opreste... e mereu pe duracell :))
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaJuly 1, 2012 at 6:07 PM
Tam? Tamara sau altfel? Multumesc ca ne iubesti. As scrie mai des, dar nu vreau sa zapacesc lumea :)
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaJuly 1, 2012 at 6:07 PM
Mirela, eu nu-s prea multumita, si o sa-l schimb curînd :)
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaJuly 1, 2012 at 10:17 PM
Pricirea * Privirea :D
ReplyDelete
Replies
AnonymousJuly 7, 2012 at 8:27 PM
da Maya..tam de la tamara...acea tamara...
asaaaa...Sam este un dulcisor..si ma bucur atat de tare ca il aveti si ma bucur atat de tare ca va are si ma bucur pentru fiecare pozuca si rand pe care-l scrii.. ptr.ca am senzatia...ca stiu si simt mai mult decat ce vad si citesc.
de cate ori ma uit la Norocel al meu,ceva din povestea voastra ma atinge frumos.
ma inclin in fata voastra siii...dau un nasuc pisicesc inimioarelor tale.
ce siropos....:))...dar stiu ca numai cine simte la fel intelege.
tam.
ReplyDelete
Replies
MayaJuly 9, 2012 at 5:29 PM
Pisicoasele siropoasele :)
(Noi sa fim sanatoasi, bi-cu patrupezi cu tot. Cei care nu înteleg. Treaba lor. Nu stiu ce pierd :D )
ReplyDelete
Replies
catkitchenAugust 1, 2012 at 3:42 PM
Maya , nu ma mai satur sa citesc si sa privesc , motanii sunt superbi , pozele la fel , iar gardina , magnifica !!!! Felicitari ptr tot !!!! <3
ReplyDelete
Replies

Add comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

ABOUT CATS

☆

Pentru a face baie unei pisici este nevoie de forta bruta, perseverenta, putere de convingere... si o pisica. Ultimul ingredient este, de obicei, cel mai greu de obtinut.

Stephen Baker

☆

Pisicile par sa mearga pe principiul ca nu strica niciodata sa ceri ceea ce vrei.

Joseph Wood Krutch

☆

O pisica are propria ei opinie despre fiintele umane. Nu spune prea multe, dar iti poti da seama si singur ca nu ai vrea sa auzi tot adevarul.

Jerome K. Jerome

☆

Daca esti demn de afectiunea ei, o pisica îti va fi o buna prietena, dar niciodata o sclava.

Theophile Gautier

☆

Oamenii care urasc pisicile se vor reîncarna în soareci in viata urmatoare.

Faith Resnick

☆

Poezii despre feline

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Le Chat

Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux;
Retiens les griffes de ta patte,
Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux,
Mêlés de métal et d'agate.

Lorsque mes doigts caressent à loisir
Ta tête et ton dos élastique,
Et que ma main s'enivre du plaisir
De palper ton corps électrique,

Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard,
Comme le tien, aimable bête
Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard,

Et, des pieds jusques à la tête,
Un air subtil, un dangereux parfum
Nagent autour de son corps brun.

— Charles Baudelaire

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Cat

Come, superb cat, to my amorous heart;
Hold back the talons of your paws,
Let me gaze into your beautiful eyes
Of metal and agate.

When my fingers leisurely caress you,
Your head and your elastic back,
And when my hand tingles with the pleasure
Of feeling your electric body,

In spirit I see my woman. Her gaze
Like your own, amiable beast,
Profound and cold, cuts and cleaves like a dart,

And, from her head down to her feet,
A subtle air, a dangerous perfume
Floats about her dusky body.

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Cat

Come, my fine cat, against my loving heart;
Sheathe your sharp claws, and settle.
And let my eyes into your pupils dart
Where agate sparks with metal.

Now while my fingertips caress at leisure
Your head and wiry curves,
And that my hand's elated with the pleasure
Of your electric nerves,

I think about my woman — how her glances
Like yours, dear beast, deep-down
And cold, can cut and wound one as with lances;

Then, too, she has that vagrant
And subtle air of danger that makes fragrant
Her body, lithe and brown.

— Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

The Cat

My beautiful cat, come onto my heart full of love;
Hold back the claws of your paw,
And let me plunge into your adorable eyes
Mixed with metal and agate.

When my fingers lazily fondle
Your head and your elastic back,
And my hand gets drunk with the pleasure
Of feeling your electric body,

I see in spirit my personal lady. Her glance,
Like yours, dear creature,
Deep and cold, slits and splits like a dart,

And from her feet to her head,
A subtle atmosphere, a dangerous perfume,
Swim around her brown body.

— Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Les Chats

Les amoureux fervents et les savants austères
Aiment également, dans leur mûre saison,
Les chats puissants et doux, orgueil de la maison,
Qui comme eux sont frileux et comme eux sédentaires.

Amis de la science et de la volupté
Ils cherchent le silence et l'horreur des ténèbres;
L'Erèbe les eût pris pour ses coursiers funèbres,
S'ils pouvaient au servage incliner leur fierté.

Ils prennent en songeant les nobles attitudes
Des grands sphinx allongés au fond des solitudes,
Qui semblent s'endormir dans un rêve sans fin;

Leurs reins féconds sont pleins d'étincelles magiques,
Et des parcelles d'or, ainsi qu'un sable fin,
Etoilent vaguement leurs prunelles mystiques.

— Charles Baudelaire

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

Both ardent lovers and austere scholars
Love in their mature years
The strong and gentle cats, pride of the house,
Who like them are sedentary and sensitive to cold.

Friends of learning and sensual pleasure,
They seek the silence and the horror of darkness;
Erebus would have used them as his gloomy steeds:
If their pride could let them stoop to bondage.

When they dream, they assume the noble attitudes
Of the mighty sphinxes stretched out in solitude,
Who seem to fall into a sleep of endless dreams;

Their fertile loins are full of magic sparks,
And particles of gold, like fine grains of sand,
Spangle dimly their mystic eyes.

— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

Sages austere and fervent lovers both,
In their ripe season, cherish cats, the pride
Of hearths, strong, mild, and to themselves allied
In chilly stealth and sedentary sloth.

Friends both to lust and learning, they frequent
Silence, and love the horror darkness breeds.
Erebus would have chosen them for steeds
To hearses, could their pride to it have bent.

Dreaming, the noble postures they assume
Of sphinxes stretching out into the gloom
That seems to swoon into an endless trance.

Their fertile flanks are full of sparks that tingle,
And particles of gold, like grains of shingle,
Vaguely be-star their pupils as they glance.

— Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

No one but indefatigable lovers and old
Chilly philosophers can understand the true
Charm of these animals serene and potent, who
Likewise are sedentary and suffer from the cold.

They are the friends of learning and of sexual bliss;
Silence they love, and darkness, where temptation breeds.
Erebus would have made them his funereal steeds,
Save that their proud free nature would not stoop to this.

Like those great sphinxes lounging through eternity
In noble attitudes upon the desert sand,
They gaze incuriously at nothing, calm and wise.

Their fecund loins give forth electric flashes, and
Thousands of golden particles drift ceaselessly,
Like galaxies of stars, in their mysterious eyes.

— George Dillon, Flowers of Evil (NY: Harper and Brothers, 1936)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Cats

The ardent lovers and the stern students
in their maturity, love equally,
the gentle, powerful cats, pride of the family,
they too feel the cold and favour indolence.

Companions of knowledge and desire
they seek the silent horrors darkness breeds,
Erebus would take them for his funeral steeds,
were they able to soften their pride.

They take as they dream the noble pose
of the great sphinxes, reclined in desolate land,
lost, it seems, in an endless doze

Their fecund loins brim with enchanting glitter,
whilst their haunting eyes at random flicker
with particles of gold, like fine sand.

— Claire Trevien

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Pages

June 25, 2012

To be or not to be, that is the question...

13 comments: