Two accountants were discussing a colleague’s interest in one of the firm’s new secretaries.
„I just don’t get it.” said one. „She’s an airhead – nothing going on upstairs.”
“That may be true,” replied the other, „but I don’t think that’s the floor he’s getting off on.”
| I think of thee!—my thoughts do twine and bud About thee, as wild vines, about a tree, Put out broad leaves, and soon there ‘s nought to see Except the straggling green which hides the wood. Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood I will not have my thoughts instead of thee Who art dearer, better! Rather, instantly Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should, Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare, And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee Drop heavily down,—burst, shattered, everywhere! Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee And breathe within thy shadow a new air, I do not think of thee—I am too near thee. |
Gândind la tine, gândurile mele ca viţele sălbatice–nconjoară copacul, ce sub verdea lor povară abia se vede prin frunzişuri grele. Şi totuşi nu vreau, nalte palmier, aceste gânduri locul tău să-l ţină; tu-mi eşti mai scump. Arată-te-n lumină, un trunchi ce pururi tinde către cer. Tu lasă deci lianele-nnodate să cadă-n fine de pe trunchiul tău. Te văd, te-aud, – o, bucurii depline! – respir în umbra ta, şi-ades se poate să uit astfel a mă gândi la tine. Sunt prea aproape ca s-o fac mereu. |
| Elizabeth Barrett Browning | traducere de Veronica Porumbacu |
© 2026 blog.ro-en.ro
