Optical Illusions In Nature — e MORFES
13 de Outubro de 2016, 15:17
Just off Mauritius’s coast appears this amazing waterfall illusion. The reason for the island’s famous waterfall illusion has to do with local sand and silt deposits that flow through the area and fluctuate the color of the water so that it appears like a waterfall.
via Optical Illusions In Nature — e MORFES
The Guardian: se fechar céu da Síria o Ocidente enfrentará guerra com Rússia — Brasdangola Blogue
13 de Outubro de 2016, 15:15
A Câmara dos Comuns do Reino Unido discute a perspectiva de introdução de uma zona de exclusão aérea sobre Aleppo e tais métodos da regularização da situação síria são apoiados pela candidata à presidência dos EUA Hillary Clinton. Fonte: The Guardian: se fechar céu da Síria o Ocidente enfrentará guerra com Rússia
via The Guardian: se fechar céu da Síria o Ocidente enfrentará guerra com Rússia — Brasdangola Blogue
Whole Again
13 de Outubro de 2016, 13:50
Every night she is staring at the very same mirror, smeared with strangers staring back. She can’t find nor recognize herself anymore, and so one night, she stops looking.
Every night her soul is floating in the space between her face and this estranged reflection. She hears the walls murmuring, admiring the touch of her body, while she feels weighed down by an inexplicable mess.
Every night grey clouds gather in her eyes, and wait for that thought to pass by her mind and pierce them through, giving birth to that same salty river, suspended between the skies.
Every night she sees the same stranger, hiding somewhere in her trapped crowd, staring back, smiling to her in malice, latching onto her floating, yet leashed soul.
Blinded by the laughter of a thousand strangers, her body explodes into a million little pieces, and each piece gazes at her soul as it…
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LE POT CASSE
13 de Outubro de 2016, 13:49
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Ô ciel ! toute la Chine est par terre en morceaux !Ce vase pâle et doux comme un reflet des eaux,
Couvert d’oiseaux, de fleurs, de fruits, et des mensonges
De ce vague idéal qui sort du bleu des songes,
Ce vase unique, étrange, impossible, engourdi,
Gardant sur lui le clair de lune en plein midi,
Qui paraissait vivant, où luisait une flamme,
Qui semblait presque un monstre et semblait presque une âme,
Mariette, en faisant la chambre, l’a poussé
Du coude par mégarde, et le voilà brisé !
Beau vase ! Sa rondeur était de rêves pleine,
Des boeufs d’or y broutaient des prés de porcelaine.
Je l’aimais, je l’avais acheté sur les quais,
Et parfois aux marmots pensifs je l’expliquais.
Voici l’yak ; voici le singe quadrumane ;
Ceci c’est un docteur peut-être, ou bien un âne ;
Il dit la messe, à moins qu’il ne…
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