That summer thunderstorm on the beach ...

A summer Thunderstorm on the beachThe woman closed behind her the chalet door so it could not be beaten by the wind.
Slender, high, she slowly moved toward the sea, with her face raised to the sky, her arms slightly stretched along and her body and her palms open upwards, graciously accepting the raindrops of that suddenly summer-storm at the beginning of the evening. When a lightning crossed the dark  sky, obscured by clouds,  illuminating for a moment her face, you could have seen in her green eyes a shiver of pleasure: that day was quite hot.

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The little lonely cloud

nuvoletta-solitaria1.jpg - 3,06 kBThat morning, a happy cloud wandered lonely in a blue sky, punctuated here and there by other white clouds, some in groups, others lonely as she.
A light wind pushed the cloud, and it stroked and gently molded the her  floating body, white and soft as freshly fallen snow.

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Julie the Rousse

Make us dance, Julie la Rousse
You whose kisses make you forget
Little Bit of Love
When you spend knitting hips
At a glance the neighborhood is dredged
You are the kidney of the Place Blanche
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This love

This love
This love
As beautiful as the day
And as bad as the time
When the weather is bad
This love so true
This love so beautiful
So happy
so gay
And so mockingly

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Pedestrians

I dedicate this song
each woman thought of as love
in a moment of freedom
known to the one just
there was no time and it was worth
of losing a century more.

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The chansonne of the avergnat

She is yours this song
You the Auvergnat who without
Gave you four pieces of wood
When in my life it was cold
You who gave me fire when
Crunchy and crunchy
All well-meaning people
Had locked my door to my nose
It was nothing but a wood fire
But he had heated my body
And in my soul it still burns
In the way of a bonfire
 

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A river flows in you, by Yuruma

 "We all feel incomplete in some way, all we produce a part of us and not the other" (I. Calvino, American Lessons, from an interview to the students)
L.T.

In "The Cloven Viscount", I. Calvino does tell Medardo, half good of his character: "O Pamela, this is half of being good: the understanding of 'every person and thing in the world is worth that each and each has for its incompleteness. I was full and did not understand, and I was moving deaf and incommunicable between the pains and wounds sown everywhere, where less from whole one dares to believe. not only I, Pamela, are to be broken and torn but I too and all. now, I have a fraternity that before, from whole, did not know: the one with all the mutilations and failings of the world. If you come with me, Pamela, you'll learn to suffer the ills of each and to treat your taking care of them. ( "The Viscount halved", I. Calvino)

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Slight rebellion off Madison

ON vacation from Pencey Preparatory School for Boys (“An Instructor for Every Ten Students”), Holden Morrisey Caulfield usually wore his chesterfield and a hat with a cutting edge at the “V” in the crown. While riding in Fifth Avenue buses, girls who knew Holden often thought they saw him walking past Saks’ or Altman’s or Lord & Taylor’s, but it was usually somebody else.

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