a great poet

Great)

Nice!!! <3

Les Misérables pretty cool

Clair de lune

La lune était sereine et jouait sur les flots. -
La fenêtre enfin libre est ouverte à la brise,
La sultane regarde, et la mer qui se brise,
Là-bas, d’un flot d’argent brode les noirs îlots.

De ses doigts en vibrant s’échappe la guitare.
Elle écoute… Un bruit sourd frappe les sourds échos.
Est-ce un lourd vaisseau turc qui vient des eaux de Cos,
Battant l’archipel grec de sa rame tartare ?

Sont-ce des cormorans qui plongent tour à tour,
Et coupent l’eau, qui roule en perles sur leur aile ?
Est-ce un djinn qui là-haut siffle d’une voix grêle,
Et jette dans la mer les créneaux de la tour ?

Qui trouble ainsi les flots près du sérail des femmes ? -
Ni le noir cormoran, sur la vague bercé,
Ni les pierres du mur, ni le bruit cadencé
Du lourd vaisseau, rampant sur l’onde avec des rames.

Ce sont des sacs pesants, d’où partent des sanglots.
On verrait, en sondant la mer qui les promène,
Se mouvoir dans leurs flancs comme une forme humaine… -
La lune était sereine et jouait sur les flots.

Вот она стоит под ивой
И пугливо
Ловит слухом ветерок.
Пролетит ли шмель над нею, -
Вспыхнет, рдея,
Как гранатовый цветок.

Видишь все, что закрывало
Покрывало.
В голубых ее глазах
Словно искры пробегают, –
Так играют
Звезды в синих небесах.

Los Misérables…cool!!!

france poet.) Notre Dam and Misarable ,,)

” Demain, dès l’aube, à l’heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m’attends.
J’irai par la forêt, j’irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.

Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.

Je ne regarderai ni l’or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j’arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.”

Victor Hugo

Great poet!

cool statue

A++++++++++;HUG YOU JARED!

I prefer hugo boss just different

great poet in his Bday … 40, sent to you (Jared) via twitter of the poetry of Victor Hugo

Desire

I want you to love first,And what a loving, well loved.And if not, is soon to forget.And you forget, do not save heartache.I therefore hope that is not so But if, known to be without despair.

I would also like to have friends,
That even bad and inconsequential,
Be brave and faithful,
And at least one of them
You can trust without hesitation.
And because life is so
I also wish that you have enemies.
Not many or few
But just right for that, sometimes,
You are about interpele
From his own certainties.
And among them, there is at least one that is fair,
Lest you feel too safe.

I want you to be useful later,
But not irreplaceable.
And in bad times,
When there remains nothing else,
This is useful enough to keep you upright.

I also want you to be tolerant
Not with those who err just because it’s easy,
But with those who err greatly and irreparably,
And making good use of this tolerance,
You serve as an example to others.

I wish that you, being young,
Not ripen too quickly,
And that being mature does not insist on rejuvenating
And that being old is not engaged to despair.
Because each age has its pleasure and its pain and
We must let them run down between us.

By the way I want you to be sad,
Not all year, but only one day.
But that day discover
Daily that laughter is good,
Laughter is the usual dull and constant laughter is insane.

I want you to discover,
With maximum urgency
Up and about everything, that there are oppressed,
Wronged and unhappy, and who are around you.

I also wish you a cuddle cat,
Feed a cuckoo and listen to john-of-clay
Raise your triumphant matin
Because, well, you will feel good for nothing.

I also hope that you plant a seed,
For most small it is,
And track your growth,
To let you know how many
Many lives are made a tree.

Desire, moreover, that you have money,
Because it must be practical.
And at least once a year
Put a little of it
In front of you and say “This is mine,”
Just to make it clear who owns whom.

I also hope that none of his affections die,
For him and for you,
But what if you die, you can cry
No whining and suffering without blame.

Finally I wish you and man,
Have a good woman,
And being a woman,
Have a good man
And that you love today, tomorrow and the following days,
And when you’re exhausted and smiling
Still there is love to start over.
And if that happens,
I have nothing more to wish you. ”

P.S.Thanks for sharing a bit of France .. Love that country in November and December will be there … dream too much about it .. God bless you dear Jared Leto

Another great poetry:

The man and woman

Man is the highest of creatures.
The woman is the most sublime of ideals.
God made for man a throne.
For a woman, an altar.
The throne exalts.
The altar sanctifies.
Man is the brain, the woman is the heart.
The brain produces the light, the heart produces love.
Light fruitful.
Love rises.
The man is strong reason.
The woman is invincible tears.
The reason convinces.
The tears move.
Man is capable of all heroism.
The woman, all martyrdoms.
The ennobling heroism.
The sublime martyrdom.
Man has supremacy.
The woman’s preference.
The supremacy means strength.
The preference is the right.
The man is a genius, a woman, an angel.
Genius is immeasurable, the angel undefinable.
We contemplate the infinite.
Admire the ineffable.
The aspiration of man is supreme glory.
The aspiration of woman is extreme virtue.
The glory is all great.
The result is all divine.
The man is a code.
The woman, a gospel.
The code fixes.
The gospel perfects.
The man thinks.
A woman dreams.
To think is to have a worm in the skull.
To dream is to have a halo on the forehead.
Man is an ocean.
Woman a lake.
The ocean has the adorning pearl.
The lake, dazzling poetry.
Man is the flying eagle.
The woman is the nightingale singing.
Flying is dominating the space.
To sing is to conquer the soul.
The man is a temple.
The woman is the tabernacle.
Before the temple we discover ourselves.
Kneel before the tabernacle

Victor Hugo

strange man, isn’t it? Xo

“Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees”, is another favorite quotes of mine, by Monsieur Hugo.

Dearest Dreamer,

I just want to let you know, I’m really glad that you still support Mister Big B. Because I truly believe that he is the best President your Country had / has since a long time. He is such a great visionary. If I were an American, I would have voted for him, too.

And Now for Something Completely Different…

Can you please tell me, what’s the hype about Instagram?
I really don’t get it, ‘cos to my opinion almost all photos look somewhat similar with the play of the colors, which is quite boring in the long run. But maybe it’s just me who thinks like this. :/

Yesterday I learned a new English phrase – Grace under pressure.
Strangely you came immediately to my mind when I learned the meaning of those words.
Maybe because you do exactly that so often, you keep your grace no matter what.

Oh, and to answer your MARS tweet question…
My favorite lyric from TIW is still ALIBI and I guess this will never change, for I am a very constant person.

Oops! It’s already bedtime again for me.
So, gute Nacht, mon amour…
Have a good time wherever you are.

Lots of love ♥Xo

Good evening Jared ! Here it is early in the morning. I` ve only read some chapters of “Les Miserables”. My favorite writers are Updike and Zeruja Shalev. I have read all their books. I especially love the “Rabbit”- books by Updike and ” The Terrorist”.
Shalev`s books are always sad and they forced my to cry very often.
By the way: Yesterday I saw the film: “Only the sun was a witness” with the young Alain Delon. I’m often surprised how similar you look.
Sleep well and relax ! I love the pics ” Dead by flash”. But I wish you would eat a little bit more…..(sorry but you look so thin)…xoxo<3

“The future has many names. For the weak it is unattainable. For the fearful, the unknown. For the brave is the opportunity” Victor Hugo