textes & litterature

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine Et nos amours Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne La joie venait toujours après la peine Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure Les jours s'en vont je demeure Les mains dans les mains restons face à face Tandis que sous Le pont de...

The Easter Rising ( Irish : Éirí Amach na Cásca) was a rebellion staged in Ireland in Easter Week, 1916. The Rising was an attempt by militant Irish republicans to win independence from Britain by force of arms. It was the most significant uprising in...

Qui n'a jamais appris ce ce poème en forme de limerick extrait d'A little pretty pocket-book de John Newbery? Hickory Dickory Dock The mouse ran up the clock The clock struck one The mouse ran down Hickory Dickory Dock

SHE sat at the window watching the evening invade the avenue. Her head was leaned against the window curtains and in her nostrils was the odour of dusty cretonne. She was tired. Few people passed. The man out of the last house passed on his way home;...

He. Never until this night have I been stirred. The elaborate star-light has thrown reflections On the dark stream, Till all the eddies gleam; And thereupon there comes that scream From terrified, invisible beast or bird: Image of poignant recollection....

" L'art ne doit nous révéler que des idées, des essences spirituelles dégagées de toute forme. Ce qui importe par-dessus tout dans une oeuvre d'art, c'est la profondeur vitale de laquelle elle a pu jaillir." Ulysse

J'ai enfin résolu mon problème de traduction du "Internal Derangement of the Knee. I.D.K. I don't know." de Laurence Passmore. Cependant, la traduction qui est proposée ne me semble pas aussi convaincante que la phrase originale ; on trouve: "Problème...

The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves, The brilliant moon and all the milky sky, And all that famous harmony of leaves, Had blotted out man’s image and his cry. A girl arose that had red mournful lips And seemed the greatness of the world in tears, Doomed...

Know, that I would accounted be True brother of a company That sang, to sweeten Ireland’s wrong, Ballad and story, rann and song; Nor be I any less of them, Because the red-rose-bordered hem Of her, whose history began Before God made the angelic clan,...