Sunday, February 26, 2012

The Casino / Constanta - History for Sale

Situated at the crossroads of several commercial routes, 
Constanta lies on the western coast of the Black Sea, 185 miles from the Bosphorus Strait.

Built between 1907 -1909 The Casino of Constanta was completed in 1910.
The architect who designed the  building was Daniel Renard, a Romanian architect with French origins, aged 32,  He projected the Casino in the Art Nouveau style, thus being one of the promoters of this artistic style in Romania.
The building has been the most representative in town for decades, a real symbol for Constanta.
Today, The Casino of Constanta continue to watch over the sea, without luxury and glamour .
The building began to crumble from inside.Windows are broken, the doors are blocked with wood and walls shriveled. House for pidgeons.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Friday, February 10, 2012

The Frozen Sun -Winter in Romania

The shelter has given dawn to the light
Wind walker has taken the after sight

Aloof in the snow on a cloudy day
Lost in the woods and there's nothing left to say
A spirit is seen in the the frozen sun
Human condition has become undone

KALAS - The frozen SUN

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Winter in Romania -White Thoughts

Black snow was falling. The tree line  shone when I turned to see - 

Then, a thick silence descends,  and my every gesture  leaves a comet tail in the heavens.  

And I hear evey glance I cast  as it echoes against  some tree.   

How transparent your hands are in winter! 

My nostrils tremble  and no scent  and no breeze 

...only the distant, icy smell  of the suns.   

And no one passes - 

 He offered me a branch like an arm.

I passed through him. He passed through me. I remained a solitary tree.   

I could hear his sap quicken, beating  like blood. He could hear my blood slacken like rising sap. 

The field stretched on its back, near the horizon, 

Full of ice

and the trees stopped running from the winter wind ... 

Stuck in ice...

and the thought spreads in circles 

ringing the trees...

....and the Sea.

...Then we met more often. 
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora. 
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth. 
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,
and touch my elbow to the ground
to look at the grass, bent
by the falling of some word,
as though by the paw of a lion in flight. 
The words spun between us,
back and forth,
and the more I missed you, the more
they continued, this whirl almost seen,
the structure of matter, the beginnings of things. 

N. Stanescu /From the book "Bas-Relief with Heroes"

english translation by Thomas Carlson and Vasile Poenaru. 

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