Romi

“You could put a blond wig on a hot-water heater and some dude would try to fuck it.”
― Tina Fey, Bossypants

“The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,

No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.

He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.

He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble that head,

The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.

You do not know him, you communal people, or you have forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying, remember him.

II

I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk;
but the great redtail
Had nothing left but unable misery
From the bone too shattered for mending, the wing that trailed under his talons when he moved.

We had fed him six weeks, I gave him freedom,
He wandered over the foreland hill and returned in the evening, asking for death,
Not like a beggar, still eyed with the old
Implacable arrogance.

I gave him the lead gift in the twilight.
What fell was relaxed, Owl-downy, soft feminine feathers; but what
Soared: the fierce rush: the night-herons by the flooded river cried fear at its rising
Before it was quite unsheathed from reality”
― Robinson Jeffers

“Beautiful rainbows are formed in ugly storms.”
― Matshona Dhliwayo

“... m'emplissait d'un bonheur vivant, d'un vrai bonheur. J'en avais sur la peau, j'en avais dans la chair, j'en avais dans le sang; il descendait jusque dans l'âme. A cet âge-là on est ignorant. Mais je sentais bien que ma joie de vivre était plus grande que mon corps, et je me disais: "Pascalet, c'est l'ange du Bon Dieu qui remue de plaisir en toi. Traite-le bien."
Pascalet ~ "L'enfant et la rivière

Traduction en grecque:
... με γέμιζε με μια ευτυχία ζωντανή, με μια πραγματική ευτυχία. Την αισθανόμουν πάνω στο δέρμα μου, μέσα στη σάρκα μου, μέσα στο αίμα μου · κατέβαινε μέχρι την ψυχή μου. Δεν ήξερα τι είναι η ψυχή. Σε αυτή την ηλικία δε γνωρίζουμε πολλά. Όμως αισθανόμουν έντονα ότι η χαρά του να ζω ήταν μεγαλύτερη από το σώμα μου και έλεγα στον εαυτό μου: "Πασκαλέ, είναι ο άγγελος του Καλού Θεού που κινεί την ευτυχία μέσα σου. Φέρσου της καλά".”
― Henri Bosco, L'enfant et la rivière