A small tool to view real-world ActivityPub objects as JSON! Enter a URL
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Accept
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to the server to view the underlying object.
{
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"content": "Time was slowly pouring into the night, its flow marked by the cadence of the creatures moving along the river bed. Time itself felt like a river streaming above the valley where the procession was taking place. Piece by piece, it was engulfing the watercourse and the scenery surrounding it. Now he could also hear drums in the distance. He felt the desire to cross the boundary grow more intense, like a rose spreading its petals in the morning sunlight.<br /><a href=\"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316</a><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=SciFi\" title=\"#SciFi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#SciFi</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifiart\" title=\"#scifiart\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifiart</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifibooks\" title=\"#scifibooks\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifibooks</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifiartwork\" title=\"#scifiartwork\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifiartwork</a>",
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1530253817902272526",
"published": "2023-07-24T16:42:20+00:00",
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"content": "Time was slowly pouring into the night, its flow marked by the cadence of the creatures moving along the river bed. Time itself felt like a river streaming above the valley where the procession was taking place. Piece by piece, it was engulfing the watercourse and the scenery surrounding it. Now he could also hear drums in the distance. He felt the desire to cross the boundary grow more intense, like a rose spreading its petals in the morning sunlight.\nhttps://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316\n#SciFi #scifiart #scifibooks #scifiartwork",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/609791627719876625/entities/urn:activity:1530253817902272526/activity"
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"content": "“Un’, du, tri, ek!” <br />The soft female voice that counting in the local language stopped abruptly as a wave crashed into the shore with thundering noise. In a flash, three pairs of bare feet started running through the deserted park. They rushed with all their might into the foamy sea, quickly crossing the narrow sandy beach and disappearing under the tepid waters of Zefiria.<br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifi\" title=\"#scifi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifi</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=martialarts\" title=\"#martialarts\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#martialarts</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=waterplanet\" title=\"#waterplanet\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#waterplanet</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=novel\" title=\"#novel\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#novel</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=book\" title=\"#book\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#book</a><br /><a href=\"https://mcghilea.wordpress.com/2023/07/23/aquatika-1/\" target=\"_blank\">https://mcghilea.wordpress.com/2023/07/23/aquatika-1/</a>",
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"published": "2023-07-23T07:56:41+00:00",
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"source": {
"content": "“Un’, du, tri, ek!” \nThe soft female voice that counting in the local language stopped abruptly as a wave crashed into the shore with thundering noise. In a flash, three pairs of bare feet started running through the deserted park. They rushed with all their might into the foamy sea, quickly crossing the narrow sandy beach and disappearing under the tepid waters of Zefiria.\n#scifi #martialarts #waterplanet #novel #book\nhttps://mcghilea.wordpress.com/2023/07/23/aquatika-1/",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/609791627719876625/entities/urn:activity:1529759145580826634/activity"
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"content": "Pink (multilingual)<br />Pink<br /><br />She was floating<br />in the twilight,<br />the sakura branches<br />spreading<br />over her dress,<br />filling the air<br />with pink.<br /><br />After she left,<br />only the deafening silence<br />stayed,<br />like a bell,<br />behind the long kiss.<br /><br />Roz<br /><br />Plutea<br />în amurg,<br />ramurile de sakura<br />întinzându-se<br />peste rochia ei,<br />umplând aerul<br />cu roz.<br /><br />După ce a plecat,<br />doar tăcerea asurzitoare<br />a rămas,<br />ca un clopot,<br />în spatele lungului sărut.<br /><br />Rose<br /><br />Elle flottait<br />dans le crépuscule,<br />les branches de sakura<br />se répandant<br />sur sa robe,<br />remplissant l'air<br />de rose.<br /><br />Après son départ,<br />seul le silence assourdissant<br />est resté,<br />comme une cloche,<br />derrière le long baiser.<br /><br />ピンク<br /><br />彼女は浮遊していた<br />たそがれ時に<br />桜の枝が<br />ドレスの上に<br />空気中に<br />ピンク色に染まっていく。<br /><br />後には<br />耳をつんざくような<br />静寂だけが 残った<br />鐘のような<br />長いキスの向こうに。<br /><br />Pinku<br /><br />Kanojo wa fuyūshite ita<br />tasogareji ni<br />sakura no eda ga<br />doresu no ue ni<br />kūkichū ni<br />pinkuiro ni somatte iku.<br /><br />Ato ni wa<br />mimi o tsunzaku yōna<br />seijaku dake ga nokotta<br />kane no yōna<br />nagai kisu no mukō ni.<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poem\" title=\"#poem\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poem</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=nature\" title=\"#nature\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#nature</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=art\" title=\"#art\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#art</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=sakura\" title=\"#sakura\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#sakura</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=multilingual\" title=\"#multilingual\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#multilingual</a><br /><br /><a href=\"https://mcghilea.wordpress.com/2022/10/19/pink/\" target=\"_blank\">https://mcghilea.wordpress.com/2022/10/19/pink/</a>",
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"published": "2022-11-11T09:01:28+00:00",
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"content": "Pink (multilingual)\nPink\n\nShe was floating\nin the twilight,\nthe sakura branches\nspreading\nover her dress,\nfilling the air\nwith pink.\n\nAfter she left,\nonly the deafening silence\nstayed,\nlike a bell,\nbehind the long kiss.\n\nRoz\n\nPlutea\nîn amurg,\nramurile de sakura\nîntinzându-se\npeste rochia ei,\numplând aerul\ncu roz.\n\nDupă ce a plecat,\ndoar tăcerea asurzitoare\na rămas,\nca un clopot,\nîn spatele lungului sărut.\n\nRose\n\nElle flottait\ndans le crépuscule,\nles branches de sakura\nse répandant\nsur sa robe,\nremplissant l'air\nde rose.\n\nAprès son départ,\nseul le silence assourdissant\nest resté,\ncomme une cloche,\nderrière le long baiser.\n\nピンク\n\n彼女は浮遊していた\nたそがれ時に\n桜の枝が\nドレスの上に\n空気中に\nピンク色に染まっていく。\n\n後には\n耳をつんざくような\n静寂だけが 残った\n鐘のような\n長いキスの向こうに。\n\nPinku\n\nKanojo wa fuyūshite ita\ntasogareji ni\nsakura no eda ga\ndoresu no ue ni\nkūkichū ni\npinkuiro ni somatte iku.\n\nAto ni wa\nmimi o tsunzaku yōna\nseijaku dake ga nokotta\nkane no yōna\nnagai kisu no mukō ni.\n\n#poem #nature #art #sakura #multilingual\n\nhttps://mcghilea.wordpress.com/2022/10/19/pink/",
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"id": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/609791627719876625/entities/urn:activity:1437728930239877134/activity"
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{
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"actor": "https://www.minds.com/api/activitypub/users/609791627719876625",
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"content": "Zashiki Warashi*<br />Perhaps<br />I'm leaning too much into the wind,<br />as if it were a carpet<br />meant to carry me over meadows.<br /><br />Perhaps you're right,<br />and it's only my imagination<br />that flickered that day at Ryōan-ji**,<br />so long ago,<br />when I thought a spirit from the garden<br />joined me on the journey<br />to the other side of the Pacific,<br />next to the Rockies.<br /><br />And when I thought you left,<br />perhaps you only went to sleep<br />while I returned to my ancestral home<br />from the Carpathian Mountains.<br /><br />But now I'm all alone,<br />and yesterday<br />your name echoed<br />on the tv screen.<br /><br />And then came the power cut<br />and the internet outage,<br />and next morning came the frog<br />jumping on the floor of the stable<br />and disappearing below through a crack,<br />and the stirring shadow<br />at the edge of the terrace,<br />and the cows that gave<br />more milk than usual,<br />and the rusty nails in musical dance<br />pushed by the broom,<br />and the candies<br />that shifted<br />on the plate<br />from the living room.<br /><br />Perhaps<br />I'm leaning too much into the wind,<br />and it's only my imagination<br />fluttering<br />like a pair of butterfly wings<br />burdened by hope.<br /><br />But I can't help thinking<br />that you might be here.<br /><br />*Zashiki-warashi (座敷童子, or 座敷童, \"parlor child\"), sometimes also called zashiki bokko (座敷ぼっこ, \"parlor boyo\"), are spirit-like beings told about mostly in the Iwate Prefecture. They are said to be yokai that live in parlors or storage rooms, and that perform pranks, and that people who see one would be visited with good fortune. (from Wikipedia)<br /><br />**Ryōan-ji (Shinjitai: 竜安寺, Kyūjitai: 龍安寺, The Temple of the Dragon at Peace) is a Zen temple located in northwest Kyoto, Japan. It belongs to the Myōshin-ji school of the Rinzai branch of Zen Buddhism. The Ryōan-ji garden is considered one of the finest surviving examples of kare-sansui (\"dry landscape\"), a refined type of Japanese Zen temple garden design generally featuring distinctive larger rock formations arranged amidst a sweep of smooth pebbles (small, carefully selected polished river rocks) raked into linear patterns that facilitate meditation. The temple and its gardens are listed as one of the Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto, and as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. (from Wikipedia)<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poem\" title=\"#poem\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poem</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=spirit\" title=\"#spirit\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#spirit</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=yokai\" title=\"#yokai\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#yokai</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fantasyart\" title=\"#fantasyart\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fantasyart</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifiart\" title=\"#scifiart\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifiart</a>",
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"url": "https://www.minds.com/newsfeed/1424408228258648079",
"published": "2022-10-05T14:49:45+00:00",
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"content": "Zashiki Warashi*\nPerhaps\nI'm leaning too much into the wind,\nas if it were a carpet\nmeant to carry me over meadows.\n\nPerhaps you're right,\nand it's only my imagination\nthat flickered that day at Ryōan-ji**,\nso long ago,\nwhen I thought a spirit from the garden\njoined me on the journey\nto the other side of the Pacific,\nnext to the Rockies.\n\nAnd when I thought you left,\nperhaps you only went to sleep\nwhile I returned to my ancestral home\nfrom the Carpathian Mountains.\n\nBut now I'm all alone,\nand yesterday\nyour name echoed\non the tv screen.\n\nAnd then came the power cut\nand the internet outage,\nand next morning came the frog\njumping on the floor of the stable\nand disappearing below through a crack,\nand the stirring shadow\nat the edge of the terrace,\nand the cows that gave\nmore milk than usual,\nand the rusty nails in musical dance\npushed by the broom,\nand the candies\nthat shifted\non the plate\nfrom the living room.\n\nPerhaps\nI'm leaning too much into the wind,\nand it's only my imagination\nfluttering\nlike a pair of butterfly wings\nburdened by hope.\n\nBut I can't help thinking\nthat you might be here.\n\n*Zashiki-warashi (座敷童子, or 座敷童, \"parlor child\"), sometimes also called zashiki bokko (座敷ぼっこ, \"parlor boyo\"), are spirit-like beings told about mostly in the Iwate Prefecture. They are said to be yokai that live in parlors or storage rooms, and that perform pranks, and that people who see one would be visited with good fortune. (from Wikipedia)\n\n**Ryōan-ji (Shinjitai: 竜安寺, Kyūjitai: 龍安寺, The Temple of the Dragon at Peace) is a Zen temple located in northwest Kyoto, Japan. It belongs to the Myōshin-ji school of the Rinzai branch of Zen Buddhism. The Ryōan-ji garden is considered one of the finest surviving examples of kare-sansui (\"dry landscape\"), a refined type of Japanese Zen temple garden design generally featuring distinctive larger rock formations arranged amidst a sweep of smooth pebbles (small, carefully selected polished river rocks) raked into linear patterns that facilitate meditation. The temple and its gardens are listed as one of the Historic Monuments of Ancient Kyoto, and as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. (from Wikipedia)\n\n#poem #spirit #yokai #fantasyart #scifiart",
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"content": "BUTTERFLY'S DREAM 2<br />The pleasant rays of the autumnal Sun are sieving in through a circular window from above. They look like drops from a delicate celestial waterfall, filling the room with golden light. Prints of buildings, landscapes, or portraits, all placed neatly in thin frames, cover the gray plastered walls everywhere I look. Sounds of steps and conversations in low tones resonate and combine in frequencies overlapping around my standing body. People are coming in or moving out towards the other rooms of the art gallery. It is a continuous flow of costumes, dresses, and voices.<br />Why am I here? What am I doing in this place? Where is this building located, anyway? I feel as if I have been suddenly planted, like a sapling, at the edge of this hall. As if I have just materialized out of the void onto this spot.<br />Seconds later, fuzzy memories come back, shaking my senses with a vigorous gentleness. I remember the announcement about the exhibition. I read it the other day in a newspaper. It was about an extensive Escher collection, almost all his masterpieces in one place, open to the public from my city for a whole month. And here I am, in front of this lithograph from 1956, named Print Gallery.<br />The flow of people goes on unabated, left and right, forward and backward. It’s a never-ending swirl of footsteps and voices. Visitors pause for a few moments in front of a framed image, then move, almost in haste, to the next.<br />I keep looking at Print Gallery, hypnotized by its unusual composition. My eyes remain glued to the man displayed there. His eyes are gazing at the works filling a passageway. Through an insane twist of space, the framed image in front of him expands, enclosing the room, the building, the whole Universe. Unperturbed, he stares at the print he has become a part of. And now, I am that man. And I’m looking at the print from the print. And I have become part of this print myself.<br />“What do you think of this work? It looks intriguing, doesn’t it?” strikes a voice at my right.<br />Pulled out of this dazzling vision, I slowly turn my head and find a slender, middle-aged man of medium height standing next to me. He is wearing a dark-orange robe, his head is neatly shaved, and his face displays a peaceful smile. A Buddhist monk. Well, why wouldn’t a monk be interested in art, too? However, my instinct tells me he isn’t here by chance. His question sounds beyond casual. It certainly has a deeper meaning.<br />I take a deep breath and do my best to articulate my thoughts as clearly as I can, murmuring in a low tone:<br />“I have to admit: I’m fascinated by it. The image seems to blur the distinction between what’s inside and what’s outside us.”<br />His gray eyes look at me intensely. I feel as if they could drill my skull and read my thoughts. Yet, the peace and friendliness surrounding them can only come from someone who has reached a high spiritual level. This monk is someone who apparently wants to help me with something. But with what? And why?<br />My memory still has gaps. I can’t recall well the past few days or, as a matter of fact, anything preceding this moment. I don’t remember how I’ve got into this room and in front of this print. Perhaps this stranger has come to help me figure out what’s going on.<br />“You’re right,” the monk says. “Escher has brilliantly caught the fact that the ego is an illusion, that what’s inside our head cannot be fully separated from what’s outside our skin. Not that he was the first to do so. However, he has shown it in an intuitive and easy-to-understand manner.”<br />I feel like inside a classroom where I’m a student and he is the teacher. As soon as the stranger goes quiet, an idea begins to germinate in my brain. The whole scene looks like happening in a dream. Like I have dreamed of it before. The situation and the dialog seem somewhat rehearsed, artificial. As if we were two mediocre actors playing their roles on an invisible stage.<br />I wait for my heartbeats to calm down, then I say:<br />“My memory is blurred. I can’t remember what’s happened to me recently. I’ve got the impression you aren’t here by chance. Have you come to help me, to guide me somewhere?”<br />The monk stares straight into my eyes with a grave expression, nodding in silence. Time seems to flow slower now. The air has turned viscous.<br />I breathe evenly, trying to keep my flux of thoughts under control. Then I turn my gaze towards the artwork. It’s still there, unchanged. Yet, something else, hard to define, is different now. I don’t know where my past is rooted, but I’m somehow aware of my future. As if everything has suddenly begun to flow in the opposite direction, from tomorrow towards yesterday. Unaware of how this information has filled my thoughts, I know there’s a path in front of me, a path onto which I have to step soon. Very soon, probably in less than a minute.<br />We both continue to look at the print like we’re holding a vigil in front of it. I feel as if Maurits Cornelis Escher himself is standing now behind us, gazing intently at his creation. However, why am I going through this strange scenario? What are these preparations for? What kind of trip is waiting for me? Or, perhaps, it has already begun?<br />“I wanted to make sure you’re taking the proper path,” the stranger in the dark-orange robe says. “Your journey is going to begin here, right in front of this work of art. Don’t strain yourself too hard to understand everything at once. Understanding will come eventually, gradually, in time.”<br />“Who are you?” I ask, turning my gaze towards him.<br />I plan to follow up with a few more questions, but the monk has vanished. There is no trace of him. Perhaps he was only a product of my imagination? Startled, I turn my eyes back to the distorted landscape from the frame in front of me. And again, I am the man from the print, looking at the print. Space is curling around me, wrapping my body like a dark veil. When I turn my head once more towards the hall, I feel I’m both inside and outside the frame. It is a most unusual sensation, and it makes me dizzy.<br />I think I’m going to faint and prepare to embrace the hard marble floor in my fall. Yet, my knees somehow manage to stay steady. I remain standing. The art gallery is fading away. A few seconds later, I suddenly get comfortable, lying in a bed placed under a domed ceiling. The new room is bathed in diffuse blue light. The walls display a pleasant, refreshing blue.<br />“Let the story begin!” a man’s voice commands.<br />I fail to see him. The room looks empty.<br />“Let it begin! Bon voyage et bonne chance!” an invisible chorus replies.<br />A flash of light envelops me for a split second. Then I seem to materialize in a different location.<br />The bed and the room are gone. I’m aware of floating inside a liquid bubble, but my eyes are closing by themselves with overwhelming strength. Unable to react in any way, I’m falling into a deep dormant state. For a short time, I can still hear voices speaking loud and clear inside my brain:<br />Black! I think the recipient is sufficiently relaxed.<br />Gray! Body and mind are adjusting to the intermediary environment.<br />Red! Gradually increase the output up to half.<br />Orange! The readings of the body parameters are within the norm.<br />Yellow! Open the gate towards the new environment.<br />Green! Continue to increase the output to the maximum.<br />Blue! The gate towards the new environment is active.<br />Purple! Disconnect the primary environment.<br />Crimson! Separate the recipient from the intermediary environment.<br />Violet! Stand by for ignition.<br />White! Ignition and lift off! The recipient has crossed to the other side!<br /><br />text & artwork by Marian C. Ghilea<br /><br />BOOK AVAILABLE HERE:<br />Amazon: <a href=\"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H2219PQ\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H2219PQ</a><br />Google Play: <a href=\"https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Marian_C_Ghilea_Butterfly_s_Dream?id=0YVvDwAAQBAJ\" target=\"_blank\">https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Marian_C_Ghilea_Butterfly_s_Dream?id=0YVvDwAAQBAJ</a><br />Smashwords: <a href=\"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316</a><br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=writingcommunity\" title=\"#writingcommunity\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#writingcommunity</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifi\" title=\"#scifi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifi</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fantasy\" title=\"#fantasy\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fantasy</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fiction\" title=\"#fiction\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fiction</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=art\" title=\"#art\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#art</a>",
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"content": "BUTTERFLY'S DREAM 2\nThe pleasant rays of the autumnal Sun are sieving in through a circular window from above. They look like drops from a delicate celestial waterfall, filling the room with golden light. Prints of buildings, landscapes, or portraits, all placed neatly in thin frames, cover the gray plastered walls everywhere I look. Sounds of steps and conversations in low tones resonate and combine in frequencies overlapping around my standing body. People are coming in or moving out towards the other rooms of the art gallery. It is a continuous flow of costumes, dresses, and voices.\nWhy am I here? What am I doing in this place? Where is this building located, anyway? I feel as if I have been suddenly planted, like a sapling, at the edge of this hall. As if I have just materialized out of the void onto this spot.\nSeconds later, fuzzy memories come back, shaking my senses with a vigorous gentleness. I remember the announcement about the exhibition. I read it the other day in a newspaper. It was about an extensive Escher collection, almost all his masterpieces in one place, open to the public from my city for a whole month. And here I am, in front of this lithograph from 1956, named Print Gallery.\nThe flow of people goes on unabated, left and right, forward and backward. It’s a never-ending swirl of footsteps and voices. Visitors pause for a few moments in front of a framed image, then move, almost in haste, to the next.\nI keep looking at Print Gallery, hypnotized by its unusual composition. My eyes remain glued to the man displayed there. His eyes are gazing at the works filling a passageway. Through an insane twist of space, the framed image in front of him expands, enclosing the room, the building, the whole Universe. Unperturbed, he stares at the print he has become a part of. And now, I am that man. And I’m looking at the print from the print. And I have become part of this print myself.\n“What do you think of this work? It looks intriguing, doesn’t it?” strikes a voice at my right.\nPulled out of this dazzling vision, I slowly turn my head and find a slender, middle-aged man of medium height standing next to me. He is wearing a dark-orange robe, his head is neatly shaved, and his face displays a peaceful smile. A Buddhist monk. Well, why wouldn’t a monk be interested in art, too? However, my instinct tells me he isn’t here by chance. His question sounds beyond casual. It certainly has a deeper meaning.\nI take a deep breath and do my best to articulate my thoughts as clearly as I can, murmuring in a low tone:\n“I have to admit: I’m fascinated by it. The image seems to blur the distinction between what’s inside and what’s outside us.”\nHis gray eyes look at me intensely. I feel as if they could drill my skull and read my thoughts. Yet, the peace and friendliness surrounding them can only come from someone who has reached a high spiritual level. This monk is someone who apparently wants to help me with something. But with what? And why?\nMy memory still has gaps. I can’t recall well the past few days or, as a matter of fact, anything preceding this moment. I don’t remember how I’ve got into this room and in front of this print. Perhaps this stranger has come to help me figure out what’s going on.\n“You’re right,” the monk says. “Escher has brilliantly caught the fact that the ego is an illusion, that what’s inside our head cannot be fully separated from what’s outside our skin. Not that he was the first to do so. However, he has shown it in an intuitive and easy-to-understand manner.”\nI feel like inside a classroom where I’m a student and he is the teacher. As soon as the stranger goes quiet, an idea begins to germinate in my brain. The whole scene looks like happening in a dream. Like I have dreamed of it before. The situation and the dialog seem somewhat rehearsed, artificial. As if we were two mediocre actors playing their roles on an invisible stage.\nI wait for my heartbeats to calm down, then I say:\n“My memory is blurred. I can’t remember what’s happened to me recently. I’ve got the impression you aren’t here by chance. Have you come to help me, to guide me somewhere?”\nThe monk stares straight into my eyes with a grave expression, nodding in silence. Time seems to flow slower now. The air has turned viscous.\nI breathe evenly, trying to keep my flux of thoughts under control. Then I turn my gaze towards the artwork. It’s still there, unchanged. Yet, something else, hard to define, is different now. I don’t know where my past is rooted, but I’m somehow aware of my future. As if everything has suddenly begun to flow in the opposite direction, from tomorrow towards yesterday. Unaware of how this information has filled my thoughts, I know there’s a path in front of me, a path onto which I have to step soon. Very soon, probably in less than a minute.\nWe both continue to look at the print like we’re holding a vigil in front of it. I feel as if Maurits Cornelis Escher himself is standing now behind us, gazing intently at his creation. However, why am I going through this strange scenario? What are these preparations for? What kind of trip is waiting for me? Or, perhaps, it has already begun?\n“I wanted to make sure you’re taking the proper path,” the stranger in the dark-orange robe says. “Your journey is going to begin here, right in front of this work of art. Don’t strain yourself too hard to understand everything at once. Understanding will come eventually, gradually, in time.”\n“Who are you?” I ask, turning my gaze towards him.\nI plan to follow up with a few more questions, but the monk has vanished. There is no trace of him. Perhaps he was only a product of my imagination? Startled, I turn my eyes back to the distorted landscape from the frame in front of me. And again, I am the man from the print, looking at the print. Space is curling around me, wrapping my body like a dark veil. When I turn my head once more towards the hall, I feel I’m both inside and outside the frame. It is a most unusual sensation, and it makes me dizzy.\nI think I’m going to faint and prepare to embrace the hard marble floor in my fall. Yet, my knees somehow manage to stay steady. I remain standing. The art gallery is fading away. A few seconds later, I suddenly get comfortable, lying in a bed placed under a domed ceiling. The new room is bathed in diffuse blue light. The walls display a pleasant, refreshing blue.\n“Let the story begin!” a man’s voice commands.\nI fail to see him. The room looks empty.\n“Let it begin! Bon voyage et bonne chance!” an invisible chorus replies.\nA flash of light envelops me for a split second. Then I seem to materialize in a different location.\nThe bed and the room are gone. I’m aware of floating inside a liquid bubble, but my eyes are closing by themselves with overwhelming strength. Unable to react in any way, I’m falling into a deep dormant state. For a short time, I can still hear voices speaking loud and clear inside my brain:\nBlack! I think the recipient is sufficiently relaxed.\nGray! Body and mind are adjusting to the intermediary environment.\nRed! Gradually increase the output up to half.\nOrange! The readings of the body parameters are within the norm.\nYellow! Open the gate towards the new environment.\nGreen! Continue to increase the output to the maximum.\nBlue! The gate towards the new environment is active.\nPurple! Disconnect the primary environment.\nCrimson! Separate the recipient from the intermediary environment.\nViolet! Stand by for ignition.\nWhite! Ignition and lift off! The recipient has crossed to the other side!\n\ntext & artwork by Marian C. Ghilea\n\nBOOK AVAILABLE HERE:\nAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H2219PQ\nGoogle Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Marian_C_Ghilea_Butterfly_s_Dream?id=0YVvDwAAQBAJ\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316\n\n#writingcommunity #scifi #fantasy #fiction #art",
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"content": "Two Bells<br /><br /><br />Two Bells<br /><br />Time never drains.<br />Always restless,<br />it pours into entropy,<br />filling eons<br />with whispers.<br /><br />The first bell tolls,<br />and everything<br />begins to take shape.<br /><br />The second bell tolls,<br />and the Universe is already too old,<br />an ancient child gazing ahead<br />towards the incoming end,<br />cloudy ripples<br />of dreams<br />filling whispers<br />with eons.<br /><br />Două clopote<br /><br />Timpul nu se scurge niciodată.<br />Mereu neliniștit,<br />se varsă în entropie,<br />umplând eoni<br />cu șoapte.<br /><br />Primul clopot sună,<br />și totul<br />începe să prindă contur.<br /><br />Al doilea clopot sună,<br />și Universul e deja prea bătrân,<br />un copil străvechi ce privește înainte<br />spre sfârșitul care se apropie,<br />valuri înnorate<br />de vise<br />umplând șoapte<br />cu eoni.<br /><br />Du sonoriloj<br /><br />La tempo neniam malpleniĝas.<br />Ĉiam malkvieta,<br />ĝi enfluas en entropion,<br />plenigante eonojn<br />kun flustroj.<br /><br />La unua sonorilo vokas,<br />kaj ĉio<br />komencas formiĝi.<br /><br />La dua sonorilo vokas,<br />kaj la Universo jam estas tro malnova,<br />antikva infano rigardanta antaŭen<br />al alvenanta fino,<br />nubaj ondetoj<br />de revoj<br />plenigante flustrojn<br />kun eonoj.<br /><br />Deux cloches<br /><br />Le temps ne s'écoule jamais.<br />Toujours agité,<br />il se déverse dans l'entropie,<br />remplissant les éons<br />avec des chuchotements.<br /><br />La première cloche sonne,<br />et tout<br />commence à prendre forme.<br /><br />La deuxième cloche sonne,<br />et l'Univers est déjà trop vieux,<br />un enfant antique regardant devant lui<br />vers la fin qui approche,<br />des ondulations nuageuses<br />de rêves<br />remplissant les chuchotements<br />avec des éons.<br /><br />Dos campanas<br /><br />El tiempo nunca se agota.<br />Siempre inquieto,<br />se derrama en la entropía,<br />llenando eones<br />con susurros.<br /><br />La primera campana toca,<br />y todo<br />comienza a tomar forma.<br /><br />La segunda campana toca,<br />y el Universo ya es demasiado viejo,<br />un niño antiguo que mira al frente<br />hacia el final que llega,<br />ondas nubladas<br />de sueños<br />llenando susurros<br />con eones.<br /><br />Due campane<br /><br />Il tempo non si svuota mai.<br />Sempre inquieto,<br />si riversa nell'entropia,<br />riempiendo gli eoni<br />di sussurri.<br /><br />La prima campana suona,<br />e tutto<br />comincia a prendere forma.<br /><br />La seconda campana suona,<br />e l'universo è già troppo vecchio,<br />un antico bambino che guarda avanti<br />verso la fine in arrivo,<br />increspature nuvolose<br />di sogni<br />che riempiono sussurri<br />con eoni.<br /><br />Dois campainhas<br /><br />O tempo nunca esgota.<br />Sempre inquieto,<br />derrama em entropia,<br />eons de enchimento<br />com sussurros.<br /><br />A primeira campainha tocou,<br />e tudo<br />começa a tomar forma.<br /><br />A segunda campainha tocou,<br />e o Universo já é demasiado velho,<br />uma criança antiga a olhar para a frente<br />para o extremo de entrada,<br />ondulações nebulosas<br />de sonhos<br />sussurros de enchimento<br />com eons.<br /><br />Zwei Glocken<br /><br />Die Zeit läuft nie ab.<br />Immer rastlos,<br />ergießt sie sich in die Entropie,<br />füllt Äonen<br />mit Geflüster.<br /><br />Die erste Glocke läutet,<br />und alles<br />beginnt Gestalt anzunehmen.<br /><br />Die zweite Glocke läutet,<br />und das Universum ist schon zu alt,<br />ein uraltes Kind, das nach vorne blickt<br />auf das kommende Ende,<br />wolkige Kräuselungen<br />der Träume<br />füllen Flüstern<br />mit Äonen.<br /><br />Два дзвони<br /><br />Час ніколи не вичерпується.<br />Завжди неспокійний,<br />він перетворюється на ентропію,<br />наповнюючи віки<br />шепотом еонів.<br /><br />Дзвенить перший дзвоник,<br />і все<br />починає набувати форми.<br /><br />Пролунав другий дзвінок,<br />і всесвіт вже занадто старий,<br />древнє дитя, що дивиться вперед.<br />назустріч прийдешньому кінцю,<br />каламутні брижі<br />мрій<br />наповнюючи шепіт<br />еонами.<br /><br />Два колокола<br /><br />Время никогда не стекает.<br />Всегда беспокойно,<br />она выливается в энтропию,<br />эоны наполнения<br />с шепотом.<br /><br />Первый колокол звонит,<br />и всё такое<br />начинает обретать форму.<br /><br />Второй колокол звонит,<br />а Вселенная уже слишком стара,<br />древний ребёнок смотрящий вперёд<br />к входящему концу,<br />облачные колебания<br />мечты<br />шёпот при набивке<br />с эонами.<br /><br />二つの鐘＊<br /><br />時間は決して減らない<br />いつも動いていて<br />エントロピーに流れ込む<br />何年もの時を<br />囁きで満たす<br /><br />最初の鐘が鳴り<br />そして全てが<br />形になっていく<br /><br />二回目の鐘が鳴ると<br />宇宙はすでに年をとりすぎている<br />古代の子供が前を見つめている<br />終わりに向かって<br />夢の雲の波紋が<br />囁きを埋める<br />何年にもわたって<br /><br />© Marian C. Ghilea, 2021<br />artwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022<br /><br />＊Japanese translation by Akiko Ishida<br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poem\" title=\"#poem\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poem</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poetry\" title=\"#poetry\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poetry</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fantasy\" title=\"#fantasy\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fantasy</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=multilingual\" title=\"#multilingual\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#multilingual</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=art\" title=\"#art\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#art</a>",
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"content": "Two Bells\n\n\nTwo Bells\n\nTime never drains.\nAlways restless,\nit pours into entropy,\nfilling eons\nwith whispers.\n\nThe first bell tolls,\nand everything\nbegins to take shape.\n\nThe second bell tolls,\nand the Universe is already too old,\nan ancient child gazing ahead\ntowards the incoming end,\ncloudy ripples\nof dreams\nfilling whispers\nwith eons.\n\nDouă clopote\n\nTimpul nu se scurge niciodată.\nMereu neliniștit,\nse varsă în entropie,\numplând eoni\ncu șoapte.\n\nPrimul clopot sună,\nși totul\nîncepe să prindă contur.\n\nAl doilea clopot sună,\nși Universul e deja prea bătrân,\nun copil străvechi ce privește înainte\nspre sfârșitul care se apropie,\nvaluri înnorate\nde vise\numplând șoapte\ncu eoni.\n\nDu sonoriloj\n\nLa tempo neniam malpleniĝas.\nĈiam malkvieta,\nĝi enfluas en entropion,\nplenigante eonojn\nkun flustroj.\n\nLa unua sonorilo vokas,\nkaj ĉio\nkomencas formiĝi.\n\nLa dua sonorilo vokas,\nkaj la Universo jam estas tro malnova,\nantikva infano rigardanta antaŭen\nal alvenanta fino,\nnubaj ondetoj\nde revoj\nplenigante flustrojn\nkun eonoj.\n\nDeux cloches\n\nLe temps ne s'écoule jamais.\nToujours agité,\nil se déverse dans l'entropie,\nremplissant les éons\navec des chuchotements.\n\nLa première cloche sonne,\net tout\ncommence à prendre forme.\n\nLa deuxième cloche sonne,\net l'Univers est déjà trop vieux,\nun enfant antique regardant devant lui\nvers la fin qui approche,\ndes ondulations nuageuses\nde rêves\nremplissant les chuchotements\navec des éons.\n\nDos campanas\n\nEl tiempo nunca se agota.\nSiempre inquieto,\nse derrama en la entropía,\nllenando eones\ncon susurros.\n\nLa primera campana toca,\ny todo\ncomienza a tomar forma.\n\nLa segunda campana toca,\ny el Universo ya es demasiado viejo,\nun niño antiguo que mira al frente\nhacia el final que llega,\nondas nubladas\nde sueños\nllenando susurros\ncon eones.\n\nDue campane\n\nIl tempo non si svuota mai.\nSempre inquieto,\nsi riversa nell'entropia,\nriempiendo gli eoni\ndi sussurri.\n\nLa prima campana suona,\ne tutto\ncomincia a prendere forma.\n\nLa seconda campana suona,\ne l'universo è già troppo vecchio,\nun antico bambino che guarda avanti\nverso la fine in arrivo,\nincrespature nuvolose\ndi sogni\nche riempiono sussurri\ncon eoni.\n\nDois campainhas\n\nO tempo nunca esgota.\nSempre inquieto,\nderrama em entropia,\neons de enchimento\ncom sussurros.\n\nA primeira campainha tocou,\ne tudo\ncomeça a tomar forma.\n\nA segunda campainha tocou,\ne o Universo já é demasiado velho,\numa criança antiga a olhar para a frente\npara o extremo de entrada,\nondulações nebulosas\nde sonhos\nsussurros de enchimento\ncom eons.\n\nZwei Glocken\n\nDie Zeit läuft nie ab.\nImmer rastlos,\nergießt sie sich in die Entropie,\nfüllt Äonen\nmit Geflüster.\n\nDie erste Glocke läutet,\nund alles\nbeginnt Gestalt anzunehmen.\n\nDie zweite Glocke läutet,\nund das Universum ist schon zu alt,\nein uraltes Kind, das nach vorne blickt\nauf das kommende Ende,\nwolkige Kräuselungen\nder Träume\nfüllen Flüstern\nmit Äonen.\n\nДва дзвони\n\nЧас ніколи не вичерпується.\nЗавжди неспокійний,\nвін перетворюється на ентропію,\nнаповнюючи віки\nшепотом еонів.\n\nДзвенить перший дзвоник,\nі все\nпочинає набувати форми.\n\nПролунав другий дзвінок,\nі всесвіт вже занадто старий,\nдревнє дитя, що дивиться вперед.\nназустріч прийдешньому кінцю,\nкаламутні брижі\nмрій\nнаповнюючи шепіт\nеонами.\n\nДва колокола\n\nВремя никогда не стекает.\nВсегда беспокойно,\nона выливается в энтропию,\nэоны наполнения\nс шепотом.\n\nПервый колокол звонит,\nи всё такое\nначинает обретать форму.\n\nВторой колокол звонит,\nа Вселенная уже слишком стара,\nдревний ребёнок смотрящий вперёд\nк входящему концу,\nоблачные колебания\nмечты\nшёпот при набивке\nс эонами.\n\n二つの鐘＊\n\n時間は決して減らない\nいつも動いていて\nエントロピーに流れ込む\n何年もの時を\n囁きで満たす\n\n最初の鐘が鳴り\nそして全てが\n形になっていく\n\n二回目の鐘が鳴ると\n宇宙はすでに年をとりすぎている\n古代の子供が前を見つめている\n終わりに向かって\n夢の雲の波紋が\n囁きを埋める\n何年にもわたって\n\n© Marian C. Ghilea, 2021\nartwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022\n\n＊Japanese translation by Akiko Ishida\n#poem #poetry #fantasy #multilingual #art",
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"content": "Rain<br />Rain<br /><br />Today,<br />I’m going to be<br />the rain.<br /><br />I shall scatter<br />over hills,<br />spreading wet scents<br />of plumes.<br /><br />I shall open your window,<br />letting the spring<br />enclose my heartbeats.<br /><br />The falling drops<br />will keep singing,<br />those old memories<br />still alive,<br />thirst<br />still unquenched.<br /><br />Ploaie<br /><br />Astăzi<br />am de gând să fiu<br />ploaia.<br /><br />Mă voi împrăștia<br />peste dealuri,<br />răspândind miresme ude<br />de penaj.<br /><br />Voi deschide fereastra ta,<br />lăsând primăvara<br />să-mi învăluie bătăile inimii.<br /><br />Picăturile ce cad<br />vor continua să cânte,<br />acele vechi amintiri<br />încă vii,<br />setea<br />încă nepotolită.<br /><br />Pluie<br /><br />Aujourd'hui,<br />je vais être<br />la pluie.<br /><br />Je vais me disperser<br />sur les collines,<br />répandant des parfums humides<br />de panaches.<br /><br />J'ouvrirai ta fenêtre,<br />laissant le printemps<br />enfermer les battements de mon cœur.<br /><br />Les gouttes qui tombent<br />continueront à chanter,<br />ces vieux souvenirs<br />toujours vivants,<br />la soif<br />toujours inassouvie.<br /><br />Lluvia<br /><br />Hoy,<br />voy a ser<br />la lluvia.<br /><br />Me dispersaré<br />sobre las colinas<br />esparciendo olores húmedos<br />de penachos.<br /><br />Abriré tu ventana<br />dejando que la primavera<br />encierre mis latidos.<br /><br />Las gotas que caen<br />seguirán cantando<br />esos viejos recuerdos<br />aún vivos,<br />la sed<br />aún no saciada.<br /><br />Pioggia<br /><br />Oggi,<br />sarò<br />la pioggia.<br /><br />Mi spargerò<br />sulle colline,<br />disseminando profumi umidi<br />di pennacchi.<br /><br />Aprirò la tua finestra<br />lasciando che la primavera<br />racchiuda i battiti del mio cuore.<br /><br />Le gocce che cadono<br />continueranno a cantare,<br />quei vecchi ricordi<br />ancora vivi,<br />la sete<br />ancora inappagata.<br /><br />Regen<br /><br />Heute,<br />werde ich<br />der Regen sein.<br /><br />Ich werde mich verstreuen<br />über die Hügel,<br />feuchte Düfte verbreiten<br />von Federn.<br /><br />Ich werde dein Fenster öffnen,<br />damit der Frühling<br />meine Herzschläge einschließen.<br /><br />Die fallenden Tropfen<br />werden weiter singen,<br />die alten Erinnerungen<br />noch lebendig,<br />der Durst<br />noch ungestillt.<br /><br />Pluvo<br /><br />Hodiaŭ,<br />mi estos<br />la pluvo.<br /><br />Mi disiros<br />super montetoj,<br />disvastigante malsekajn odorojn<br />de plumoj.<br /><br />Mi malfermos vian fenestron,<br />lasante la printempon<br />enfermi miajn korbatojn.<br /><br />La falantaj gutoj<br />plu kantos,<br />tiuj malnovaj memoroj<br />ankoraŭ vivaj,<br />soifo<br />ankoraŭ senfunda.<br /><br />Дощ<br /><br />Сьогодні,<br />я буду<br />дощем.<br /><br />Я буду розсіюватися<br />по пагорбах,<br />поширюючи вологі запахи<br />шлейфів.<br /><br />Я відчиню твоє вікно,<br />впустивши весну<br />увібрати в себе биття мого серця.<br /><br />Падаючі краплі<br />будуть продовжувати співати,<br />ці старі спогади<br />все ще живі,<br />спрага<br />все ще не втамована.<br /><br />Дождь<br /><br />Сегодня,<br />я буду<br />дождь.<br /><br />Я рассею<br />за холмами,<br />распространение влажных ароматов<br />шлейфов.<br /><br />Я открою твое окно,<br />давая пружине<br />прикрыть мое сердцебиение.<br /><br />Падающие капли<br />будет продолжать петь,<br />старые воспоминания<br />все еще жив,<br />жажда<br />до сих пор нетронутой.<br /><br />雨<br /><br />今日は<br />私が<br />雨になる<br /><br />丘の上に<br />散らばるように<br />湿った香りを<br />撒き散らす<br /><br />あなたの窓を開けよう<br />春の息吹を<br />私の心臓の鼓動を包み込む<br /><br />落ちてくる雫が<br />歌い続けるだろう<br />あの古い記憶は<br />まだ生きている<br />渇きは<br />まだ満たされていない<br /><br />Ame<br /><br />Kyō wa<br />watashi ga<br />ame ni naru.<br /><br />Oka no ue ni<br />chirabaru yō ni<br />shimetta kaori wo<br />maki chirasu.<br /><br />Anata no mado wo akeyou.<br />Haru no ibuki wo<br />watashi no shinzō no kodō wo tsutsumikomu.<br /><br />Ochite kuru shizuku ga<br />utaitsuzukeru darou.<br />Ano furui kioku wa<br />mada ikiteiru.<br />Kawaki wa<br />mada mitasareteinai.<br /><br />© Marian C. Ghilea, 2021<br />artwork by Marian C. Ghilea<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=rain\" title=\"#rain\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#rain</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poem\" title=\"#poem\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poem</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=multilingual\" title=\"#multilingual\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#multilingual</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poetry\" title=\"#poetry\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poetry</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=art\" title=\"#art\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#art</a>",
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"content": "Rain\nRain\n\nToday,\nI’m going to be\nthe rain.\n\nI shall scatter\nover hills,\nspreading wet scents\nof plumes.\n\nI shall open your window,\nletting the spring\nenclose my heartbeats.\n\nThe falling drops\nwill keep singing,\nthose old memories\nstill alive,\nthirst\nstill unquenched.\n\nPloaie\n\nAstăzi\nam de gând să fiu\nploaia.\n\nMă voi împrăștia\npeste dealuri,\nrăspândind miresme ude\nde penaj.\n\nVoi deschide fereastra ta,\nlăsând primăvara\nsă-mi învăluie bătăile inimii.\n\nPicăturile ce cad\nvor continua să cânte,\nacele vechi amintiri\nîncă vii,\nsetea\nîncă nepotolită.\n\nPluie\n\nAujourd'hui,\nje vais être\nla pluie.\n\nJe vais me disperser\nsur les collines,\nrépandant des parfums humides\nde panaches.\n\nJ'ouvrirai ta fenêtre,\nlaissant le printemps\nenfermer les battements de mon cœur.\n\nLes gouttes qui tombent\ncontinueront à chanter,\nces vieux souvenirs\ntoujours vivants,\nla soif\ntoujours inassouvie.\n\nLluvia\n\nHoy,\nvoy a ser\nla lluvia.\n\nMe dispersaré\nsobre las colinas\nesparciendo olores húmedos\nde penachos.\n\nAbriré tu ventana\ndejando que la primavera\nencierre mis latidos.\n\nLas gotas que caen\nseguirán cantando\nesos viejos recuerdos\naún vivos,\nla sed\naún no saciada.\n\nPioggia\n\nOggi,\nsarò\nla pioggia.\n\nMi spargerò\nsulle colline,\ndisseminando profumi umidi\ndi pennacchi.\n\nAprirò la tua finestra\nlasciando che la primavera\nracchiuda i battiti del mio cuore.\n\nLe gocce che cadono\ncontinueranno a cantare,\nquei vecchi ricordi\nancora vivi,\nla sete\nancora inappagata.\n\nRegen\n\nHeute,\nwerde ich\nder Regen sein.\n\nIch werde mich verstreuen\nüber die Hügel,\nfeuchte Düfte verbreiten\nvon Federn.\n\nIch werde dein Fenster öffnen,\ndamit der Frühling\nmeine Herzschläge einschließen.\n\nDie fallenden Tropfen\nwerden weiter singen,\ndie alten Erinnerungen\nnoch lebendig,\nder Durst\nnoch ungestillt.\n\nPluvo\n\nHodiaŭ,\nmi estos\nla pluvo.\n\nMi disiros\nsuper montetoj,\ndisvastigante malsekajn odorojn\nde plumoj.\n\nMi malfermos vian fenestron,\nlasante la printempon\nenfermi miajn korbatojn.\n\nLa falantaj gutoj\nplu kantos,\ntiuj malnovaj memoroj\nankoraŭ vivaj,\nsoifo\nankoraŭ senfunda.\n\nДощ\n\nСьогодні,\nя буду\nдощем.\n\nЯ буду розсіюватися\nпо пагорбах,\nпоширюючи вологі запахи\nшлейфів.\n\nЯ відчиню твоє вікно,\nвпустивши весну\nувібрати в себе биття мого серця.\n\nПадаючі краплі\nбудуть продовжувати співати,\nці старі спогади\nвсе ще живі,\nспрага\nвсе ще не втамована.\n\nДождь\n\nСегодня,\nя буду\nдождь.\n\nЯ рассею\nза холмами,\nраспространение влажных ароматов\nшлейфов.\n\nЯ открою твое окно,\nдавая пружине\nприкрыть мое сердцебиение.\n\nПадающие капли\nбудет продолжать петь,\nстарые воспоминания\nвсе еще жив,\nжажда\nдо сих пор нетронутой.\n\n雨\n\n今日は\n私が\n雨になる\n\n丘の上に\n散らばるように\n湿った香りを\n撒き散らす\n\nあなたの窓を開けよう\n春の息吹を\n私の心臓の鼓動を包み込む\n\n落ちてくる雫が\n歌い続けるだろう\nあの古い記憶は\nまだ生きている\n渇きは\nまだ満たされていない\n\nAme\n\nKyō wa\nwatashi ga\name ni naru.\n\nOka no ue ni\nchirabaru yō ni\nshimetta kaori wo\nmaki chirasu.\n\nAnata no mado wo akeyou.\nHaru no ibuki wo\nwatashi no shinzō no kodō wo tsutsumikomu.\n\nOchite kuru shizuku ga\nutaitsuzukeru darou.\nAno furui kioku wa\nmada ikiteiru.\nKawaki wa\nmada mitasareteinai.\n\n© Marian C. Ghilea, 2021\nartwork by Marian C. Ghilea\n\n#rain #poem #multilingual #poetry #art",
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"content": "first rain of autumn -<br />I feel like a butterfly,<br />lost inside my dreams<br /><br />© Marian C. Ghilea, 2019<br />artwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022<br /><br />TIDES OF AMBER<br />The full haiku book is available on the links below:<br />Amazon: <a href=\"https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NQRR43C\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NQRR43C</a><br />Google Play: <a href=\"https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Marian_C_Ghilea_Tides_of_Amber?id=-0mHDwAAQBAJ\" target=\"_blank\">https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Marian_C_Ghilea_Tides_of_Amber?id=-0mHDwAAQBAJ</a><br />Smashwords: <a href=\"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/922540\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/922540</a><br />★★★★★<br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=JAPANESE\" title=\"#JAPANESE\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#JAPANESE</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=POETRY\" title=\"#POETRY\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#POETRY</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=FREE\" title=\"#FREE\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#FREE</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=BOOK\" title=\"#BOOK\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#BOOK</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=haiku\" title=\"#haiku\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#haiku</a> ",
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"content": "first rain of autumn -\nI feel like a butterfly,\nlost inside my dreams\n\n© Marian C. Ghilea, 2019\nartwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022\n\nTIDES OF AMBER\nThe full haiku book is available on the links below:\nAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NQRR43C\nGoogle Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Marian_C_Ghilea_Tides_of_Amber?id=-0mHDwAAQBAJ\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/922540\n★★★★★\n#JAPANESE #POETRY #FREE #BOOK #haiku ",
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"content": "To a Dragon<br />White dragon, you inspire me to write.<br />I love the way you soar, fly, and explore;<br />When entering my weary thoughts at night,<br />You make me dream about that splendid shore.<br /><br />I wanted to compare you to a distant thunder,<br />But you are more mysterious, reserved, and strange.<br />Mist floats over the seas that fall asunder<br />When autumn has the same bright color change.<br /><br />You fill my heart with falling stars and spells<br />That sprout from shiny scales and burning eyes;<br />In melodies of flutes and silver bells,<br />My zest for you is bright, like a sunrise.<br /><br />In the enchanting light of the Blue Moon,<br />Remember to come back to my world soon.<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316\" target=\"_blank\">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316</a><br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifiart\" title=\"#scifiart\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifiart</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fantasyart\" title=\"#fantasyart\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fantasyart</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=scifi\" title=\"#scifi\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#scifi</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=fantasy\" title=\"#fantasy\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#fantasy</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poetrycommunity\" title=\"#poetrycommunity\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poetrycommunity</a>",
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"content": "To a Dragon\nWhite dragon, you inspire me to write.\nI love the way you soar, fly, and explore;\nWhen entering my weary thoughts at night,\nYou make me dream about that splendid shore.\n\nI wanted to compare you to a distant thunder,\nBut you are more mysterious, reserved, and strange.\nMist floats over the seas that fall asunder\nWhen autumn has the same bright color change.\n\nYou fill my heart with falling stars and spells\nThat sprout from shiny scales and burning eyes;\nIn melodies of flutes and silver bells,\nMy zest for you is bright, like a sunrise.\n\nIn the enchanting light of the Blue Moon,\nRemember to come back to my world soon.\n\nhttps://www.smashwords.com/books/view/893316\n\n#scifiart #fantasyart #scifi #fantasy #poetrycommunity",
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"content": "Neutral Ground<br />Dear citizen,<br />we dwell<br />on opposite shores<br />washed by<br />mismatched horizons.<br /><br />What you want<br />from the future<br />is going to burn down<br />my world.<br /><br />Yet,<br />I’m a citizen,<br />like you.<br />I dream of lions<br />and sometimes<br />spend long hours<br />counting stars.<br /><br />Maybe<br />you could come<br />before nightfall.<br />You can stand by me<br />on this neutral ground.<br /><br />We shall wait<br />together<br />for the stars<br />while our differences<br />fade away<br />into the twilight.<br /><br />© Marian C. Ghilea, 2021<br />artwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022<br /><br /><a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poetry\" title=\"#poetry\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poetry</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=poem\" title=\"#poem\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#poem</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=tolerance\" title=\"#tolerance\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#tolerance</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=diversity\" title=\"#diversity\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#diversity</a> <a href=\"https://www.minds.com/search?f=top&t=all&q=peace\" title=\"#peace\" class=\"u-url hashtag\" target=\"_blank\">#peace</a>",
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"content": "Neutral Ground\nDear citizen,\nwe dwell\non opposite shores\nwashed by\nmismatched horizons.\n\nWhat you want\nfrom the future\nis going to burn down\nmy world.\n\nYet,\nI’m a citizen,\nlike you.\nI dream of lions\nand sometimes\nspend long hours\ncounting stars.\n\nMaybe\nyou could come\nbefore nightfall.\nYou can stand by me\non this neutral ground.\n\nWe shall wait\ntogether\nfor the stars\nwhile our differences\nfade away\ninto the twilight.\n\n© Marian C. Ghilea, 2021\nartwork by Marian C. Ghilea, 2022\n\n#poetry #poem #tolerance #diversity #peace",
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