Tout d’abord je suis conscient que ce moment de l’année n’est pas particulièrement pertinent pour faire référence à bon vieux Cupidon. J’ai jadis évité de dénigrer la fantastique fête qu’est la St-Valentin, sachant très bien que j’aurais été victime de représailles de la part de ma tendre moitié, mais rien ne m’empêche de dénigrer la mascotte de l’amour qu’est Cupidon. C’est lors d’une intense discussion philosophique avec de bons amis que j’ai été illuminé et que j’ai été frappé par cette triste réalité: l’archer de la conjugalité est complètement sénile.

Attaque sournoise

Figure emblématique de l’amour depuis bien longtemps déjà, illustré par certains comme un bambin potelé et par d’autres comme un Grec efféminé, les flèches de Cupidon semblent avoir pris des trajectoires radicalement différentes au cours des dernières années. En effet, on a pu constater une recrue d’essence du divorce ainsi qu’une hausse considérable du taux d’homosexualité, principalement au cours des quatre précédentes décennies. Certains diront que tout cela est majoritairement dû au déclin de l’influence de l’Église mais je suis convaincu que toute personne sensée balaiera du revers de la main ces hypothèses ésotériques. Préférant travailler sur la solution que sur le problème, j’ai donc songé au remplaçant parfait pour Cupidon: John Rambo.

En effet, nous sommes tous conscients (mes lecteurs étant forcément adeptes de Rambo) que l’âge n’a jamais ramolli ce vétéran militaire! Pendant que Cupidon devenait responsable de l’apparition des ornithorynques, Rambo libérait des pays de la tyrannie, abattait la vermine, propulsait le bouc dans le cercle, capturait à mains nues de gigantesques serpents venimeux et/ou forgeait des machettes artisanales faisant de l’ombrage aux réputés katanas japonais. Non seulement Rambo possède-t-il l’oeil du tigre, mais il serait aussi en mesure de prodiguer à la populace des explosions de bonheur. Comme si ces arguments ne suffisaient pas, je fais appel au jugement collectif basé exclusivement sur l’apparence: À qui feriez-vous le plus confiance entre ces deux individus?

Il va de soi que Cupidon est complètement dépassé et que, si nous le laissons continuer ainsi, nous risquons fort de nous retrouver condamnés à nous accoupler avec des cloportes et des reptiles. Une fois de plus, il est temps de compter sur une figure militaire patriotique pour nous sortir de ce pétrin dans lequel nous avons été mis par une horde incessante de politiciens fanatiques religieux marginaux. Au nom de l’amour et si vous ne voulez pas vous réveiller un beau matin aux côtés d’un éléphant de mer qui vous regarde en fumant une cigarette d’un air satisfait, votez Rambo.

Ma mie, de grâce, ne mettons

Pas sous la gorge à Cupidon

Sa propre flèche,

Tant d’amoureux l’ont essayé

Qui, de leur bonheur, ont payé

Ce sacrilège…

Minha querida não coloquemos

A flecha do Cúpido

Na própria garganta dele,

Tantos amores o tentaram,

Que pagaram com sua felicidade

Esse sacrilégio…

Comentário :

A expressão « ma mie » é cheia de ares poéticos, pois é uma velha forma arcaica de referir-se à “amante”.

Outro detalhe do anti-clericalismo de GB, aqui o casamento de sacramento passa a sacrilégio.

J’ai l’honneur de

Ne pas te demander ta main,

Ne gravons pas

Nos noms au bas

D’un parchemin.

Eu tenho a honra de não

Pedir-te tua mão

Não gravemos nossos nomes

No final de um pergaminho.

Comentário:

Pergaminho aqui é a metáfora do “casar de papel passado”, como se diz entre nós brasileiros.

Laissons le champs libre au oiseaux,

Nous seront tous les deux prisonniers sur parole,

Au diable, les maîtresses queux

Qui attachent les coeurs aux queues

Des casseroles!

Deixemos o campo livre para os pássaros,

Nós dois seremos prisioneiros

Na palavra,

Ao diabo, as cozinheiras

Que amarram os corações no cabo

Das panelas!

Comentário:

“Maîtresses queux”: intraduzível! A rigor GB fala da mulher como « dona de casa », a cozinheira, e não a amante. Mas há um jogo de palavras, pois “maîtresse” é amante… Ou seja: o casamento transforma uma amante numa cozinheira.

J’ai l’honneur de

Ne pas te demander ta main,

Ne gravons pas

Nos noms au bas

D’un parchemin.

Idem…

Vénus se fait vielle souvent

Elle perd son latin devant

La lèchefrite

A aucun prix, moi je ne veux

Effeuiller dans le pot-au-feu

La marguerite.

Venus sempre envelhece

E perde seu latim

Diante de uma frigideira

De forma nenhuma, eu desejo

Desfolhar a margarida num ensopado

Comentário:

Venus a deusa romana do amor, no casamento perde todo seu encanto…

J’ai l’honneur de

Ne pas te demander ta main,

Ne gravons pas

Nos noms au bas

D’un parchemin.

idem

On leur ôte bien des attraits,

En dévoilant trop les secrets

De Mélusine.

L’encre des billets doux pâlit

Vite entre les feuillets des livres de cuisine.

Roubam-se mesmo os atrativos

De Mélusine,

Desvelando-lhe os seus segredos

A tinta dos bilhetes de amor empalidece

Rápido entre os livros de receita

Comentário:

Mélusine é um personagem da literatura francesa do século XIV, era uma fada que escondia de seu pretendente que todos os sábados ela se transformava em sereia… Que quer dizer GB? Que deve haver sempre algum segredo entre os amantes?

J’ai l’honneur de

Ne pas te demander ta main,

Ne gravons pas

Nos noms au bas

D’un parchemin.

Idem

Il peut sembler de tout repos

De mettre à l’ombre, au fond d’un pot

De confiture,

La jolie pomme défendue,

Mais elle est cuite, elle a perdu

Son goût “nature”.

Pode parecer um descanso,

Se aprisionar, e no fundo de um pote

De doce

Pôr a linda maça proibida,

Mas ela está cozida, ela perdeu

Seu gosto “natural”

Comentário:

« Mettre quelqu’un à l’ombre (fam.), le mettre en prison. » segundo o Dicionário da Academia Francesa.

J’ai l’honneur de

Ne pas te demander ta main,

Ne gravons pas

Nos noms au bas

D’un parchemin.

Idem

De servante n’ai pas besoin,

Et du ménage et de ses soins

Je te dispense…

Qu’en éternelle fiancée,

A la dame de mes pensées

Toujours je pense…

De uma serva eu não necessito,

E de uma empregada e seus cuidados

Eu te dispenso…

Como uma eterna noiva,

Como a dama de meus pensamentos,

Eu sempre penso…

Comentário:

“Dama dos meus pensamentos”: referência a Dante em Vita Nuova (II):

Nove fiate già appresso lo mio nascimento era tornato lo cielo de la luce quasi a uno medesimo punto, quanto a la sua propria girazione, quando a li miei occhi apparve prima la gloriosa donna de la mia mente, la quale fu chiamata da molti Beatrice li quali non sapeano che si chiamare.

J’ai l’honneur de

Ne pas te demander ta main,

Ne gravons pas

Nos noms au bas

D’un parchemin.

Idem

Le cœur selon la science

Sylvain Sarrazin

(Agence Science-Presse) – Ah, l’amour… on en parle parfois avec une petite gêne. Mais, à en croire certains scientifiques, c’est également une question de… gènes. Les plus récentes recherches «coup de cœur» sur ce mystère universel.

Recherche génétique

Le clin d’œil discret ou le petit compliment bien placé ont désormais un sérieux rival dans la gamme des outils de séduction. Son nom — MHC — est certes moins sexy. Mais il est efficace. Le Major Histocompatibility Complex est une région du génome humain agissant comme une tour de guet immunitaire, détectant infections et autres indésirables microscopiques. Or, d’après des recherches menées en Europe et aux États-Unis, un individu en quête de sa douce moitié serait aussi influencé par son MHC!

Les contraires s’attirent

Les résultats de leurs études étonnent! En effet, plus le patrimoine génétique des tourtereaux serait différent, plus grande serait la probabilité qu’ils se désirent. La raison? Le choix d’un conjoint muni de gènes complémentaires sur le plan immunitaire permettrait de transmettre aux enfants du couple une gamme plus large de récepteurs. Bref, un bouclier contre les infections plus large et plus efficace.

Difficile cependant de s’échanger une analyse de son MHC comme on se glisserait un numéro de téléphone (même si des entreprises américaines proposent ce nouveau service matrimonial!). C’est pourquoi chaque individu a la faculté d’émettre et de détecter des molécules odorantes — les phéromones — marquées de ce sceau génétique. Des chercheurs suédois de l’Université d’Uppsala sont arrivés aux mêmes conclusions : qui ne se ressemblent (génétiquement) s’assemblent!

Génétique et séduction en Afrique et aux USA

Pour aller plus loin, l’ethnobiologiste Raphaëlle Chaix et son équipe ont passé au crible le patrimoine génétique de couples issus de populations ciblées du Nigeria et des États-Unis. Mais, comme toujours, l’amour n’est pas si facile à dompter. Dans le premier cas, le MHC n’a pas vraiment joué les entremetteurs, tandis qu’il apparaît comme un élément crucial et systématique dans le second.

«Chez les Yorubas, en Afrique, nous avons remarqué que les membres du couple étaient plus similaires génétiquement, tant au niveau du génome entier qu’au niveau du MHC. Dans cette population, ce sont davantage les facteurs sociaux, comme les mariages entre cousins, qui déterminent le choix du conjoint», remarque la chercheuse. Par conséquent, si les barrières sociales sont peu rigides quant au choix du conjoint, l’importance du facteur MHC est donc mise en évidence.

À la lumière des travaux menés par d’autres scientifiques, il apparaît en effet que le rôle joué par la génétique n’est qu’une étincelle qui met le feu aux passions. Bref, vous avez le même indicatif, mais d’autres éléments décisifs, comme l’aspect physique, le vécu de l’individu ou son comportement viendront compléter le numéro gagnant.

Pilule d’amour

Pour ceux qui auraient encore foi en Cupidon, voici de quoi les faire fléchir. Larry Young, chercheur à l’université américaine d’Emory, croit en la possibilité de confectionner une pilule qui, dotée de l’hormone appropriée, pourrait provoquer une réaction chimique et stimuler les émotions amoureuses. Bref, un véritable élixir d’amour en capsule.

«Il y a une grande différence entre être amoureux et tomber amoureux, précise cependant Ariel Fenster, professeur de chimie à l’Université McGill. Quand on est avec un conjoint pendant longtemps, on a un sentiment de satisfaction, associé au niveau d’ocytocine.» Cette molécule agirait sur le sentiment d’attachement.  Donc, l’effet de cette fameuse pilule sur le taux d’ocytocine serait plutôt comparable à celui d’un antidépresseur. Une vraie roue de secours pour couples en panne.

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From planning a surprise dinner for your mate to telling them that you care, the rules of romance have changed, leaving many hopeless romantics feeling helpless and cynical about the prospects of finding true love. Do your dates step up and do the romantic things you’d like them to do or are they distant and non-chalant when it comes to anything romantic or sensual?

I finally found the answer to those questions: We just learnt that Cupidon shot himself with is own arrow. His condition is really critical… Is Romance Really Dead?

• June 28 2009 – The follow up to this post is The Art of Rhyme and Meter

The Writing and Art of Iambic Pentameter

There is no one way to learn how to write Iambic Pentameter. If you’re not certain what Iambic Pentameter is, then you should probably read my post on Iambic Pentameter and the Basics first. The post explains what it means, how to scan it, and provides an explanation of the some of the terminology surrounding the verse form.

How Not To

The art to writing Iambic Pentameter is partly in knowing when not to write it.

Chaucer was the first poet to write full length “poems” in Iambic Pentameter. But his language was middle English, not modern. The first drama (that we know about) written in Modern English and in Iambic Pentameter (Blank Verse) was Gorboduc not by one author, but two – Sackville and Norton. Since this was probably their first crack at Iambic Pentameter, and since they wanted to make a good impression, they didn’t vary the pattern one iota. In other words, they didn’t quite know when not to write it.

Videna: The silent night, that brings the quiet pause
From painful travails of the weary day,
Prolongs my careful thoughts, and makes me blame
The slow Aurore, that so, for love or shame,
Doth long delay to show her blushing face;
And now the day renews my griefful plaint.

Ferex My gracious lady and my mother dear,
Pardon my grief for your so grievèd mind
To ask what cause tormenteth so your heart.
Videna So great a wrong and so unjust despite.
Without all cause against all course of kind!

So it begins. So it goes. So it ends. Te-tum te-tum te-tum. Line after line after line. The only variant feet appear to be some first foot trochees, but even these are up for debate. The word Pardon, in the lines above, was probably pronounced after the French with the stress on the second syllable – Par(don). With a cursory glance, I could find only two feminine endings in the entire play. Here is one of them:

And eke |gain time, |whose on|ly help |sufficeth Act V.i. 105.

The verse of their play feels excessively formal and buttoned up. The vast majority of their lines are end-stopped – which is to say: each line ends with punctuation or a complete syntactic unit or phrase. In short, they wrote the way some of our modern Formalists write.

Don’t make that mistake.

Where To Start

When J.S. Bach used to teach harmony to his students, he would give them give chorales by Martin Luther – unharmonized single line melodies. That way they didn’t have to think about composing a melody. It was already there. All they had to do was to write the base and harmonize. His students would gradually progress from two, to three, to four part harmony.

Likewise, a cool method for learning to write Iambic Pentameter is by picking some prose to poetize. That way, all you have to think about are the mechanics of the meter. To that end, I have carefully selected some old fashioned prose some readers might recognize. Here it is:

Therefore when she was sent unto by diverse letters, both Antonius himself and also from his friends, she made light of it and mocked Antonius so much that she disdained to set forward otherwise but to take her barge in the river of Cydnus, the poop whereof was of gold, the sails of purple, and the oars of silver, which kept stroke in rowing after the sound of the music of flutes, howboys, citherns, viols, and such other instruments as they played upon in the barge. And now for the person of herself: she was laid under a pavilion of cloth of gold of tissue, appareled and attired like the goddess Venus commonly drawn in picture; and hard by her, on either hand of her, pretty fair boys appareled as painters do set forth god Cupid, with little fans in their hands, with which they fanned wind upon her.

Her ladies and gentlewomen also, the fairest of them were apparelled like the nymphs Nereides (which are the mermaids of the waters) and like the Graces, some steering the helm, others tending the tackle and ropes of the barge, out of the which there came a wonderful passing sweet savor of perfumes, that perfumed the wharf’s side, pestered with innumerable multitudes of people. Some of them followed the barge all alongst the river’s side; others also ran out of the city to see her coming in; so that in the end there ran such multitudes of people one after another to see her that Antonius was left post-alone in the market-place in his imperial seat to give audience.

This choice piece of purple prose was written by Thomas North – a translation of a French work by Jacques Amyot which was itself a translation from Plutarch – a Greek historian who wrote while Nero was emperor of Rome. North was describing Cleopatra. The coin at right, recently discovered, is said to portray Cleopatra. We live in the 21rst Century and normally I wouldn’t pick some 500 year old snippet, but the beauty of this example as that , if you try your hand at it, you can compare your effort to the greatest poet of the English language.

Now, imagine you’re a playwright and you’ve been given an advance to write a play about Cleopatra. You only have a few weeks to write the play or the advances will stop. The drama is to be written in blank verse – the standard of the day. This is your chance to Wow! theatergoers not only with your dramatic powers but with the virtuosity of your blank verse (Iambic Pentameter) – a new and flourishing verse form. You decide to draw your material from North’s translation of Plutarch.

Free Verse First

Where do you start?

The first thing you might do is to lineate the prose. I skilled poet will do this *and* produce Iambic Pentameter but I’ll break down the thought process. And (so that this post isn’t a book length post) we’ll only poetize the first of North’s two paragraphs

Therefore when she was sent unto by diverse letters,
both Antonius himself and also from his friends,
she made light of it and mocked Antonius
so much that she disdained to set forward otherwise
but to take her barge in the river of Cydnus,
the poop whereof was of gold, the sails
of purple, and the oars of silver, which
kept stroke in rowing after the sound of the music
of flutes, howboys, citherns, viols, and such
other instruments as they played upon in the barge.
And now for the person of herself:
she was laid under a pavilion
of cloth of gold of tissue, appareled
and attired like the goddess Venus commonly
drawn in picture; and hard by her, on either hand
of her, pretty fair boys appareled as painters
do set forth god Cupid, with little fans
in their hands, with which they fanned wind upon her.

Ta da! We now have a free verse poem. And this is probably where 99 out of 100 modern poets stop. Free verse is the easiest and least demanding literary form ever created. But for those who like to juggle with more than one ball, let’s try two. The next step is to transform this passage into Iambic Pentameter. Again, if you’re not sure what Iambic Pentameter is (but have dared to read this post nonetheless) take a look my Guide to the Basics. This will explain just *what* Iambic Pentameter is. Now on to Plutarch. Since we don’t live in the 16th Century, no need to keep the archaisms.

Now Make it Iambic Pentameter

Therefore when she was sent unto by diverse letters,

When she |was sent |for by |An-to|ni-us -

both Antonius himself and also from his friends,
she made light of it and mocked Antonius

And by |his friends, |by var|ious let|ters – she
Made light |of them |and mocked |An-to|ni-us

so much that she disdained to set forward otherwise
but to take her barge in the river of Cydnus,

Disdai|ning but |to an|swer with |a barge -

the poop whereof was of gold, the sails
of purple, and the oars of silver, which

The poop |was gold, |the sa|ils pur|ple and
The sil|ver oars |kept rhy|thm to |the mu-sic

kept stroke in rowing after the sound of the music
of flutes, howboys, citherns, viols, and such

Of o|boes, flutes, |viols |and ci|therns – such
And more |as can |be played |upon |a barge.

other instruments as they played upon in the barge.
And now for the person of herself:
she was laid under a pavilion

As to |her per|son: She |was laid |beneath
A cloth |of gold |of tis|sue – her |pa-vil-ion -

of cloth of gold of tissue, appareled
and attired like the goddess Venus commonly
drawn in picture; and hard by her, on either hand

At-ti|red like |the god|dess Ve|nus just
As she |is drawn |in pic|tures; next |to her
On ei|ther hand |were pret|ty boys |ap-par-eled

of her, pretty fair boys appareled as painters
do set forth god Cupid, with little fans
in their hands, with which they fanned wind upon her.

As if |they each |were Cu|pid, fan|ning her
To keep |the wind |up-on | her.

And here it is in one piece.

When she was sent for by Antonius
(And by his friends, by various letters) she
Made light of them and mocked Antonius
Disdaining but to answer with a barge -
The poop was gold, the sails purple and
The silver oars kept rhythm to the music
Of oboes, flutes, viols and citherns – such
And more as can be played upon a barge.
As to her person: She was laid beneath
A cloth of gold of tissue – her pavilion -
Attired like the goddess Venus just
As she is drawn in pictures; next to her
On either hand were pretty boys appareled
As if they each were Cupid, fanning her
To keep the wind upon her.

When she | was sent |for by |An-ton|i-us
(And by |his friends, |by var | ious let|ters) she
Made light |of them |and mocked |An-ton| i-us
Dis-dai|ning but |to an|swer with |a barge -
The poop |was gold,| the sa|ils pur|ple and
The sil|ver oars |kept rhy|thm to |the mu-sic
Of o|boes, flutes, |vi-ols |and ci|therns – such
And more |as can |be played |up-on |a barge.
As to |her per|son: She |was laid |be-neath
A cloth |of gold |of tis|sue – her |pa-vil-ion -
At-tir|ed like |the god|dess Ve|nus just
As she |is drawn |in pict|ures; next |to her
On ei|ther hand |were pret|ty boys |ap-par-eled
As if |they each |were Cu|pid, fan|ning her
To keep |the wind |up-on |her.

This is juggling two balls. In altering the verse from free-verse to blank verse, I was careful to keep a strict Iambic Pentameter meter – the only variants being feminine endings. Notice that I’ve had to move some words around. (If I had really wanted to be conservative, I could have end-stopped every line.) This is juggling two balls.

The blank verse (Iambic Pentameter) is competent and passable poetry. And  this is where many poets stop (those who write meter); but this is still juggling with just two balls. Now let’s juggle three. Let’s vary the meter and give it some life. And since we’re writing verse *drama*, I’ll add some characters: Enobarbus and Agrippa. Just for the fun of it, I’ve thrown in some Shakespearean touches to give the passage a more conversational feel. I also split up the lines for visual effect, but if you put them back together, they will all be Iambic Pentameter (some with various variant feet). At some later date, I’ll poetize the second paragraph because, well,  it’s fun to do (or at least I think so).

She answered under Purple Sails…

And here it is for easier reading:

She came from Egypt…

And here’s another juggler – one of our greatest Poets and Dramatists – John Dryden. Not who you were expecting? This is from his play All for Love; or, The World Well Lost Act III Line 180.  The Literary Encyclopedia offers a good article on the play, but you have to be willing to pay for it after the first 600 words.

Ant. … she came from Egypt.
Her Gally down the Silver Cydnos row’d
The Tacking Silk, the Streamers wav’d with Gold.
The gentle Winds were lodg’d in Purple Sails:
Her Nymphs, like Nereids, round her Couth, were plac’d;
Where she, another Sea-born Venus lay.
Dolla. No more: I would not hear it.
Ant. O, you must!
She lay, and leant her Cheek upon her Hand,
And cast a Look so languishingly sweet,
As if, secure of all Beholders Hearts,
Neglecting she could take ‘em: Boys, like Cupids,
Stood fanning, with their painted Wings, the Winds
That played about her Face: But if she smil’d,
A darting Glory seem’d to blaze abroad:
That Men’s desiring Eyes were never waery’d;
But hung upon the Object: To soft Flutes
The silver Oars kept Time; and while they played,
The Hearing gave new Pleasure to the Sight;
And both to Thought: ‘twas Heav’n or somewhat more;
For she so charm’d all Hearts, that gazing crowds
Stood panting on the shore, and wanted Breath
To give their welcome Voice.

The Chair she sat in…

And here’s another juggler! This poet’s name is T.S. Eliot. Not who you were expecting? This is from the second part of The Waste Land: A Game of Chess. Eliot doesn’t hue to Plutarch’s text. That’s not what he’s about in in this rendition, but notice how some of North’s words show up in different contexts and how the general  tone and progress imitates North’s narrative.

The Chair she sat in, like a burnished throne,
Glowed on the marble, where the glass
Held up by standards wrought with fruited vines
From which a golden Cupidon peeped out
(Another hid his eyes behind his wing)
Doubled the flames of sevenbranched candelabra
Reflecting light upon the table as
The glitter of her jewels rose to meet it,
From satin cases poured in rich profusion.
In vials of ivory and colored glass,
Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic perfumes,
Unguent, powdered, or liquid–troubled, confused
And drowned the sense in odors; stirred by the air
That freshened from the window, these ascended
In fattening the prolonged candle-flames,
Stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the coloured stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
Above the antique mantle was displayed
As though a window gave upon the sylvan scene
The change of Philomel, by the barbarous king
So rudely forced; yet there the nightingale
Filled all the desert with inviolable voice
And still she cried, and still the world pursues,
“Jug Jug” to dirty ears.

The barge she sat in…

And here’s some of the greatest lines of poetry ever written by the greatest Poet of the English language – William Shakespeare. In Shakespeare’s version (on which I based my own) Enobarbus describes what he has seen. This comes from Antony and Cleopatra Act II Sc. II 230. You can hear it read on YouTube.

And here’s the thing to know. What make’s this passage great is what makes poetry great. It’s not content. This is what novels do. There are many great and profound passages of prose. What makes poetry great is something else. Style. A great poet can transform ordinary content into something beautiful and extraordinary. A great poem is like a beautiful woman – like Cleopatra. She is beautiful, but every woman knows that by a turn of hair, the cut of her skirt, the shade of her lips and eyebrows – small touches, poetic touches, her beauty is transformed into something that makes the heart skip. That’s style.

And this is what’s missing in so much contemporary and free verse poetry.

If you want to be a truly great poet, learn what little touches make a woman into a beauty. Study closely how little additions and adornments turn ordinary prose into poetry. It’s not the content that makes the poem. Shakespeare’s every addition plays on the idea of Cleopatra’s sexual seductiveness. North’s passage is merely description. Shakespeare gives description suggestiveness, underscoring the psychology of the character who speaks the lines – an essential part of Shakespeare’s dramatic genius. Shakespeare’s use of imagery always underscores his character’s psychological state. When you write your own poetry, remember this. There is not a single 21rst century poet, to my knowledge, who gets it. The winds are “love-sick”. The silver oars make “the water which they beat follow faster, amorous of their strokes”.

Don’t miss the erotic double-entendre in the phrase “amorous of their strokes”.

With the image, amorous strokes, still fresh in his mind, Shakespeare then adds that the wind “did seem to glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool”.  No image is separate or divided from the image before. Shakespeare’s imagery is of a piece. This subtle linkage between images, frequently through wordplay, is a habit of his thought that allows Shakespeare to unify acts and entire plays through the linkage of word and image. In Shakespeare’s hands, imagery can be like a leitmotif. If you really want to understand how Shakespeare did it, M.M. Mahood’s book “Shakespeare’s Wordplay“, is worth every penny. Compare Dryden’s effort to Shakespeare. Interestingly, Dryden was trying to imitate Shakespeare. The entirety of Dryden’s play was written in blank verse. This was a considerable departure for Dryden who, along with his contemporaries, wrote nearly all their poetry in heroic couplets.

In the next passage, the silken tackle “swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands”. All in all, Shakespeare’s additions to North’s passage reach a kind of subliminal sexual crescendo. Enobarbus is not just smitten by the extravagance of Cleopatra’s excess, not just reporting on what he has seen, the undercurrent of his imagery reveals him to be smitten by the sexuality of her excess.

Enobarbus: I will tell you.
The barge she sat in, like a burnish’d throne,
Burn’d on the water: the poop was beaten gold;
Purple the sails, and so perfumed that
The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver,
Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made
The water which they beat to follow faster,
As amorous of their strokes. For her own person,
It beggar’d all description: she did lie
In her pavilion–cloth-of-gold of tissue–
O’er-picturing that Venus where we see
The fancy outwork nature: on each side her
Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids,
With divers-colour’d fans, whose wind did seem
To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool,
And what they undid did.

Agrippa: O, rare for Antony!

Enobarbus: Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides,
So many mermaids, tended her i’ the eyes,
And made their bends adornings: at the helm
A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle
Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands,
That yarely frame the office. From the barge
A strange invisible perfume hits the sense
Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast
Her people out upon her; and Antony,
Enthroned i’ the market-place, did sit alone,
Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy,
Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too,
And made a gap in nature.

Upon hearing this report, Mecaenas realizes that Mark Antony, who had been the most admired soldier in all of Rome, is quickly becoming nothing more than Cleopatra’s playboy. Legend has it that when Cleopatra initially saw that she was going to be defeated by Caesar, she ordered that she be rolled inside a carpet. The carpet was to be presented to Caesar as a gift. When Ceasar unrolled it, Cleopatra unrolled with it, naked, nubile and young. The rest is history.

This is the legend.

Here is the story as presented at the United Nations of Roma Victrix website:

Cleopatra was rowed in a small rowboat by a single Sicilian, by name of Apollodorus. Upon reaching the palace area, the only way to enter Caesar’s presence was to conceal herself in such a manner without arousing suspicion of her brother’s men. The story of Cleopatra being rolled in a carpet, while false, is still true in essence. She was slipped into some bed coverings and presented to Caesar as a gift. Though little is known of the actual meeting, it’s quite clear that the young queen made an enormous impression on the great Roman. Though her ‘beauty’ is disputed, (at worst probably plain of appearance) Cleopatra was young and virile. She was elegant and charismatic, but most of all, she had power and money, and Caesar probably supposed she was susceptible to manipulation. Caesar, at 52 years old and 35 years her elder, was easily seduced, or perhaps even seduced her, as Caesar’s affairs were legendary anyway. Cleopatra was politically brilliant and secured Caesar’s loyalty, certainly not only through sexual pleasure, but through manipulation of her own. She was, and Caesar was well aware, the key to controlling the vast wealth of Egypt. Caesar was, and she was well aware, the key to securing her place as Queen, and perhaps even Pharaoh, and the power of the gods.

At the close of Enobarbus’ description, Enobarbus plainly knows that Antony will never escape the whiles of Cleopatra. The image of Cleopatra, at right, was created for a BBC documetary. It is a reconstruction of what Cleopatra might have looked like based on coinage, description, artifacts, etc…

Enobarbus: I saw her once
Hop forty paces through the public street;
And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted,
That she did make defect perfection,
And, breathless, power breathe forth.

Mecaenas: Now Antony must leave her utterly.

Enobarbus: Never; he will not:
Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale
Her infinite variety: other women cloy
The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry
Where most she satisfies; for vilest things
Become themselves in her: that the holy priests
Bless her when she is riggish.

Give it a Try

If you decide to give North’s passage a try, measuring yourself against Shakespeare, be sure and post it in the comment section!

In any case, if this post has been helpful or has inspired you, let me know.

Botosani Romania 8.03.2009

Anul trecut am terminat o relatie care dura de ceva timp, poate chiar prea mult…dar asta e alta poveste, iar la finalul acelei relatii in afara de faptul ca eram terminat psihic am tras linie si am gasit asa zisele parti bune ale vietii de celibatar.. frate nu tre sa mai dai cadouri. Dar Cupidon nu mi-a dat pace si am inceput o relatie asa cum e poate firesc si acum m-am aflat din nou in aceasi dilema ce sa-i iau cadou.

….8 Martie de asemenea cunoscuta ca fiind ziua femeii. Wtf o zi speciala in viata unei femei..oare? Daca e o zi speciala in viata ei de ce tre sa fie si o zi speciala in viata mea? Pentru ca in momentul cand mie imi ia o saptamana sa ma hotarasc ce sa cumpar ma simt special….Un om cu nevoie speciale.  Citeam zilele astea o gramada de articole scrise de femei pentru barbati cu lista intregi de cadouri care sunt acceptate de 8 Martie dar frate chiar tre sa respecti ideea unei femei care iti sugereaza? NU. Eu am incercat sa fiu cat de cat original si iesit din tiparul mutunachilor de plus, a bijuteriilor sau a felicitarilor….

Saptamana care a trecut m-am simtit ca la facultate la managementul proiectelor.. am avut un buget din care a trebuit intr-un termen limita sa realizez un proiect pe care sa il prezint si sper sa fie si apreciat.

Prima idee a fost sa cumpar un inel de logodna, dar avand in vedere ca eu am o pasarica care se numeste inel cu diamant era cu mult mult peste bugetul rezervat zilei de 8 Martie. Asa ca in speranta ca EA ma va mai astepta pana sa imi adun bugetul si bineinteles curajul am zis ca inelul data viitoare.

A doua ideea a fost un maimutoi.. dupa care am umblat in oras si am gasit doar in 2 sau 3 locuri dar la preturi destul de piparate ceea ce a dus la saltul “proiectului maimutoiul”.

A treia idee e cea care deja am pus-o in aplicare si mai am doar de rectificat mici detalii pentru prezentarea care va fi diseara. Sper sa iasa bine avand in vedere ca ziua de 8 Martie am inceput-o printr-o cearta crunta. In traducere libera azi noapte la ora 00.00 eram in telefon cu iubita si ne certam..  (va urma)

LA MULTI ANI tuturor femeilor.

Fiu al Babei Dochia, ‘Dragobetele’ era sarbatorit pe 24 februarie.Sarbatoarea de Dragobete este considerata echivalentul romanesc al sarbatorii Valentine’s Day, sau ziua Sfantului Valentin, sarbatoare a iubirii. Probabil ca 24 februarie însemna pentru omul arhaic începutul primaverii, ziua cand natura se trezeate, ursul iese din barlog, pasarile îsi cauta cuiburi, iar omul trebuia sa participe si el la bucuria naturii.

Entitate magica asemanatoare lui Eros sau Cupidon, Dragobetele se diferenţiaza de blajinitatea Sfantului Valentin din tradiţia catolica, fiind un barbat chipes, un neastamparat şi un navalnic. Preluat de la vechii daci, unde Dragobetele era un petitor si un nas al animalelor, romanii au transfigurat Dragobetele în protectorul iubirii celor care se întalnesc în ziua de Dragobete, iubire care tine tot anul, asa cum si pasarile “se logodesc” în această zi.

În aceasta zi satele romaneşti rasunau de veselia tinerilor si de zicala : Dragobetele saruta fetele. Sunt multe credintele populare cu referire la Dragobete. Astfel se spunea ca cine participa la această sarbatoare avea sa fie ferit de bolile anului, si mai ales de febra, si ca Dragobetele îi ajuta pe gospodari sa aiba un an îmbelsugat. Îmbracati de sarbatoare, fetele si flacaii se întalneau în fata bisericii si plecau sa caute prin paduri si lunci, flori de primavara. În sudul Romaniei (Mehedinti), fetele se întorceau în sat alergand, obicei numit zburatorit, urmarite de cate un băiat caruia îi cazuse draga. Dacă baiatul era iute de picior si o ajungea, iar fata îl placea, îl saruta în vazul tuturor. Sarutul acesta semnifica logodna celor doi pentru un an, sau chiar pentru mai mult, Dragobetele fiind un prilej pentru comunitate pentru a afla ce nunti se mai pregatesc pentru toamna.

O alta traditie spune ca Dragobetele a fost transformat într-o buruiana, numita Navalnic, de Maica Precista, după ce nesabuitul a îndraznit să ii încurce si ei cararile.

Dragobetele reprezinta una dintre cele mai frumoase obiceiuri stravechi ale poporului roman. Pacat insa ca foarte multi i-au uitat semnificatia si au substituit-o cu sarbatoarea vecinilor nostri occidentali, aceea a Sf-ului Valentin, ce nu are nici o inrudire cu mitologia populara romana. Insa romanii care cunosc legenda lui Dragobete o celebreaza pe 24 februarie a fiecarei primaveri.

Sursa: ro.wikipedia.org

Am văzut că putem să milităm împotriva jurnaliştilor ucişi in Irak, că putem să strigăm în cor “Free Wily !” sau că putem să spunem NU rasismului, dar ce-aveţi oameni buni cu simpaticul Cupidon ?

Da, da… ala micu’, bucălat, mai şaten-blonduţ, cu arc în mână. Milităm împotriva lui ?

Nu vi se pare că “deraiem” un pic ?

Facem ca voi… Îl ucidem pe Cupidon. Ok, zis şi făcut, una bucată arc înfipt în inima tuturor îndrăgostiţilor, scoasă cu forţa şi încuiată în WC-ul de servici.

Fluturaşii dispar, îngropăm definitiv emoţia primului sărut, dilemele sentimentale pe care le aveam  cu vecinul de la 3 au apus, tipul de la scara II nu mai e la fel de ademenitor pe cât părea şi… ne transformăm toţi în persoane care consumă doar zaharină, care râd la Titanic şi plâng la Stăpânul Inelelor, care îşi apostrofează partenerul/a că este prea sufocant/a atunci când aranjează o plecare de două zile în afara urbei noastre mizere şi care desigur, nu sărbătoresc Sf. Valentin pentru că detestă chestiile

“mushy and schmaltzy “…

Şi în ce ne mai transformăm ? Păi să vedem… în ce eram şi înainte:  în manageri, bucatari, cizmari, balerini, cântăreţi sau ce mai suntem pe aici, fiecare la casa lui, cu soţia/soţul, iubita/iubitul, amanta/amantul (impropriu spus la casa lor, dar treacă de la mine), cu copii , cu bunici, cu pisic, cu câine, cu şopârlă, cu hamster etc., dar cu următoarea schimbare în structura existenţială:

Seara, pe 14 feb., tu (el sau ea) vrei un pupic de “Noapte bună!” sau mai mult că doar aşa ai primit până acum. Tz,tz,tz ! Nu mai vezi aşa ceva. Faci parte din generaţia anti-valentine acum, e un trend nou. Şi ăsta se sărbătoreşte tot pe 14 februarie, prin… amorţire sentimentală.

Dulcegăriile nu mai sunt la modă. De ce să te săruţi pasional cu cea/cel care te făcea să visezi noapte de noapte,  când te poţi cufunda într-un tratat, să zicem, de psihopatologie. Aruncă tratatul de mângâieri pe geam. Lasă-i pe vecini să se contamineze cu el. Ce naiba, chestiile astea siropoase îţi provoacă greaţă şi oricând te poate lovi un diabet. Îi vei spune partenerului sau partenerei să se calmeze, să-şi dea prostia aia de imprimeu cu inimioare jos şi să pună pe el/ea treningul ăla de casă pe care-l avea mai devreme. Şi aşa gigacaloria s-a scumpit iar în seara asta nu deschizi centrala. Desigur, cadourile NU intră în discuţie. Orice tentativă va fi abolită cu un scandal ce va avea ca temă despărţirea. Cuplul va adormi liniştit, fiecare ţinând perna proprie şi personală în braţe, nu înainte de a consuma câte o pastilă de metoclopramid (taie greaţa).

Urmează firescul “Noapte bună !”… linişte …  linişte… linişte şi atât.

Ei, dragilor, voi l-aţi asasinat pe Cupidon de ziua Sfântului Valentin. Voi aţi vrut-o, nu eu.

Desigur, veţi spune că de fapt nu aceasta este problema, ci dulcegăriile, chestiile siropoase care ne inundă an de an.

Nu vă obligă nimeni să le consumaţi… e la fel ca şi cu zapping-ul.

Şi atunci, de unde frustrarea ? Că e o zi venită de peste hotare ? Ok, la fel şi SIDA, dar nu v-am văzut la Universitate militând pentru o mai bună distribuire a pliantelor care îţi arată că latex-ul salvează vieţi. Când o să o văd şi pe asta, poate că o să vă cred… moraliştilor !

Până atunci, refuz să dau reject lucrurilor care aduc un zâmbet în viaţa mea.

John Mayer – Waiting on the world to change

De St. Valentin, ziua tuturor îndrăgostiților, ziua în care până și Cupidon se fute (că ăsta tot face combinații, da` el rupe lăbile), dragostea trebuie să fie în floare…așa a și fost.
Pe unde mergeai, vedeai numai copii de 11-12 ani, cu mâna pe curul fetiței de langă el, numai copii pe la MC Donald`s, vedeai pe stradă flori aruncate de pițipoancele care de ziua lu` Vali au primit buchete de flori nu buchete de bani…si multe căcaturi dintr-astea nesemnificative.
EU, am “sărbătorit” ziua asta, în HappyHour, un băruleț din Suceava, zona Areni, unde mă simt ca acasă. De ce? Pt că oamenii de acolo, sunt niște oameni civilizați, cu simț civic, fără figuri de mari șmecheri (deși ar avea cu ce), iar ceea ce m-a surprins acolo, e ca barmanii/ospătarii/picolii/bucătarii, într-un cuvânt patronii (2 la nr), nu-și aleg clienții după ce și cum fac,după câți bani cheltuie sau după ce beau, ci după gradul de “umanitate” din fiecare.
La HappyHour, recomand: Senviș Ciabata; Freș`ul de mere și Votka Cranberry.

Felicitari Radu și Cata!

…de ziua lu` Vali, cum ziceam, la HappyHour s-a ținut o petrecere pt clienții casei, deci și eu. Romantismul în floare, bla bla bla, dar piesa de rezistență nr1, a fost compania aleasă de care am avut parte, Raluca de la Falticeni, pe numele ei de scena, Perecheaaaaaaaaaaaaaa lu` Kikiiii. Fată draguță, simpatică, vorbăreață, are un singur MARE defect, KIKI.
În fine, toți am fost bucuroși să-l vedem pe Kiki fericit macar în acea seara mirobolantă.
A 2`a piesă de rezistență, a fost trecerea lu` Kiki la non-alcoolici, asta pană s-a hotărât să-și lase totuși mașina la Happy că na, căcat, e aproape și să-și ducă amica acasă, la Fălticeni, cu taxiul. (Mulțumim Abramiuc pt ajutor).

Nu mai e Vali cum era odinioară…da` na…mai jos câteva imagini din ce a fost pe acolo:

C’est la fête au Foo

Fuck la St-Valentin, ça a pu sa raison d’être et c’est moi qui le décrète drette là!

Un p’tit saut chez lui pour les voeux, pis si vous désirez vraiment commenter ici parlez moi d’esti de chats de marde pour voir!

Bon anniversaire mec!

Je n’arrive pas à choisir entre la préméditation et la récidive
(Cupidon 0 – JoeyStarr 1)

Si j’étais anglophone, j’écrirais probablement quelque chose de la sorte en début de billet: Screw you Cupid ! (Va te faire m… Cupidon !)

Je n’aime pas la St-Valentin ! En fait, j’adore l’appeler la St-Hypocrisie. Pourquoi ? Parce qu’il y a des couples qui ne se basent que sur cette fête pour se dire des mots d’amour et passer un moment ensemble. Comment dire ? Ce n’est plus une célébration, c’est un passage obligé. Alors, hypocritement (dans certains cas, pas tous évidemment), on se fait un petit dîner en tête-à-tête, un petit week-end au spa, un petit peu de sexe et voilà ! Magie ! On se fait croire qu’on s’aime ! Alors que tout le monde sait que le vrai amour se développe au quotidien, se travaille. Parce que, j’ai des petites nouvelles pour vous: saviez-vous que biologiquement, le sentiment amoureux neurochimique s’estompe après 3 ans et c’est la stimulation régulière (et régulière veut dire plus qu’une fois par année) d’une hormone (l’ocytocine) qui fait que les couples durent au-delà de cette période ?

Plate et froid comme fait, hein ? Cupidon peut aller se coucher: son arc et ses flèches n’ont rien à y faire là-dedans. Donc, il faut travailler son couple. Or, comme on est dans une époque où on préfère avoir sans travailler pour,  pas étonnant que le taux de rupture soit aussi haut.

En plus, c’est quoi cette fête ? Au moins Noël, à défaut de dire que c’est la fête de Jésus (même lui ne s’en rappelle plus, dixit RBO), on peut dire qu’on célèbre la fin de l’année / le début de l’hiver comme le faisait les Celtes il y a des siècles. Or, là, on se fait chier parce que quoi ? Il y aurait peut-être un gars qui un 14 février, alors qu’il allait se faire exécuter, a écrit une lettre d’amour à sa dulcinée ? Euh… J’ai déjà marché dans une crotte de chien un 9 avril. Est-ce qu’on déclare le 9 avril prochain, jour des excréments ? OK, je l’avoue, mauvaise foi ici…

Là, j’entends déjà les “Regarde les plaintes d’un célibataire qui va passer sa St-Valentin tout seul ! Il ne dirait pas ça s’il était avec quelqu’un !“. Hé bien, même si ça n’aide pas à la cause, ça n’a rien à voir. Même en couple, je trouverais la fête pas si agréable que ça dans la mesure qu’on se sent OBLIGÉ de faire quelque chose pour l’autre CETTE JOURNÉE-LÀ. Regardez autour de vous, surtout les gars, je suis sûr que vous avez des collègues de bureau ou des amis (et même des filles) qui vous ont dit: “Je ne sais tellement pas quoi donner à ma blonde (mon chum) pour la St-Valentin.” Sans compter les centaines de malheureux et malheureuses qui vont oublier la fête samedi et qui vont se faire tomber sur la tomate… D’ailleurs, je sens une fin de semaine de ruptures à venir dans les prochaines heures.

Oui, je suis cynique. Parce que le problème – et je me répète – c’est qu’on nous donne pas le choix. On nous enfonce dans la gorge du rose, du rouge, du chocolat, des fleurs, des cupidons… J’en ai des maux de coeur juste de faire l’énumération. Sans compter des programmations télé faites que de films d’amour “cuculs” et de programmes radiophoniques avec du Céliiiine et des balades amoureuses mur à mur. Bref, le message est: “si tu es célibataire aujourd’hui, mon cher ou ma chère, tu es MIIIINNNAAABBBBLLLEEE !” Et remarquez notre incohérence sociale. La semaine dernière, au Québec, c’était la semaine nationale de prévention au suicide. On en a peu parlé parce que forcément, les gens ont peur qu’en parlant de suicide, on “encourage les gens à le faire” (une corrélation bête à pleurer). Or, la semaine suivante, après une semaine à déplorer le haut taux de suicide au Québec, on enfonce le message que “si tu n’es pas en couple la semaine de la St-Valentin, tu fais pitié”.

Vous cherchez à abaisser le taux de suicide ? Commencez donc à être cohérent dans vos messages !

Bon, il y en aura toujours quelques-uns pour nous dire que ce n’est pas seulement la fête de l’amour conjugal, mais la fête de l’Amour avec un grand “A”  et que ça comprend donc amis et la famille. Ah oui ? Connaissez-vous bien des familles qui se réunissent à la St-Valentin ? Ou des amis qui se font une soirée pour se signifier leur amour ? Il y en a qui le font, mais ils sont minoritaires parce que la plupart seront occupés ce soir-là avec l’élu(e) de leur coeur.

Et je peux vous comprendre de le faire. Parce que lundi prochain au boulot, il est évident que tout le monde va se comparer pour paraître comme “le ou la meilleur(e) amant(e) du monde”. Et la roue de la superficialité continuera de tourner jusqu’à l’an prochain… Ah oui, définitivement, c’est une foutue de belle fête (de merde) que la St-Valentin !

Moi, ma St-Valentin ? Seul, bien sûr et pour éviter que la populace me pointe du doigt comme si j’avais la lèpre, je vais bien me planquer dans des couvertures avec des DVD et je vais en écouter jusqu’à ce que la journée fatidique se termine et qu’on en entende plus parler. Oh, et pas de films d’amour ! Probablement des trucs sanglants bêtes et méchants juste pour être à l’antithèse du truc.

Quant à toi Cupidon, mon bambin qui n’a rien d’autre à faire que de poser torse nu pour des cartes de souhait et des guirlandes,  je te souhaite ardemment d’aller en Palestine et leur dire que tu as un message de la part des Israéliens qui va comme suit: “Nous vous aimons… depuis que vous êtes reclus dans une bande de terre non fertile et facile à bombarder.” Tu vas voir, tu vas vivre une St-Valentin assez explosive merci !

Daca unii abia asteapta ziua de 14 februarie, considerand Valentine’s Day un nou prilej pentru a-si face cadouri si pentru a-si declara dragostea, altii nu cred in aceasta sarbatoare si o vad doar ca pe o zi pe care comerciantii o exploateaza pentru a-si vinde produsele specifice. Si de la cateva vedete pe care le-am intrebat cum isi vor petrece Ziua Indragostitilor am primit aceleasi raspunsuri. Valentina Pelinel a serbat in avans, dar asteapta, pe 14, un tort in forma de inima de la sotul ei, Cristian Boureanu. Edi Iordanescu isi plimba iubita in Grecia, iar Oana si Viorel Lis vor aniversa uitandu-se la un film romantic. De partea cealalta, Andreea Banica sau Crina Matei sustin ca nu cred in Valentine’s Day, pentru ca Ziua Indragostitilor este in fiecare zi.

Aici Ideei pentru -> Declaratii de Dragoste si  SmS-uri de Iubire

Mantea militeaza pentru Dragobete
Andreea Mantea nu are deocamdata planuri pentru Valentine’s Day, insa ne-a marturisit ca i-ar placea mai degraba sa petreaca de Dragobete. „Sincer, deocamdata nu stiu ce vom face de Valentine’s Day, nu avem nici un plan. Nici macar nu sunt sigura daca sa tinem aceasta sarbatoare sau nu. Suntem romani si e pacat ca din cauza acestei sarbatori importate am uitat de Dragobetele nostru. Suntem romani si cred ca ar trebui sa ne tinem propriile sarbatori, nu pe ale altora”, ne-a spus vedeta de la Antena 1.

Iordanescu jr isi duce iubita la Atena
Edi Iordanescu si iubita lui, Arabella, vor pleca vineri dimineata la Atena, astfel ca ziua de 14 februarie ii va prinde departe de frigul din Romania. „Probabil ca nu vom face nimic special in timpul zilei, dar acolo atmosfera este frumoasa oricum”, ne-a declarat Iordanescu jr. Seara, Edi isi va duce iubita la unul din restaurantele lui preferate, unde merge de fiecare data cand ajunge la Atena si unde se canta muzica greceasca live. Ei se vor intoarce acasa in cursul saptamanii viitoare.

Andreea si Keo sarbatoresc doar dimineata
Keo si Andreea Balan nu vor fi impreuna de Valentine’s Day decat dimineata. Cantaretul va avea un concert in afara Bucurestiului, iar iubita lui, in capitala, astfel ca se vor revedea abia seara tarziu. „Nu avem nevoie de o zi anume ca sa ne demonstram iubirea. Oricum, vom sarbatori doar la micul dejun, deoarece mai apoi drumurile noastre se vor desparti in acea zi, amandoi avand spectacole”, a spus Keo pentru „Gardianul“.

Boureanu, bucatar pentru sotie
Topmodelul Valentina Pelinel a fost sarbatorita de sotul sau, politicianul Cristian Boureanu, mai devreme de 14 februarie, data pe care o cunoastem cu totii ca fiind sarbatoarea de Sfantul Valentin. „Dupa calendarul ortodox, Sfantul Valentin a fost pe 10 februarie, asa ca am aniversat marti. Cristi a gatit pentru mine si mi-a adus multe zambile roz si mov”, ne-a spus Valentina. Ea si sotul ei nu vor ignora insa data de 14 februarie. „Probabil ca vom ramane in Bucuresti, dar cred ca vom mai petrece inca o data. Cristi imi aducea de obicei tort in forma de inima rosie cu martipan. Probabil ca va lua si de data asta”, a mai adaugat Valentina.

Oana Lis: «Vom sta la film ca doi porumbei»
Oana si Viorel Lis vor iesi sambata la un restaurant alaturi de prieteni, urmand ca seara sa o petreaca doar in doi. „Sincera sa fiu, mie imi place mult sarbatoarea asta, pentru ca este o noua ocazie de a darui si a primi cadouri. Dupa-amiaza vom iesi la un restaurant cu cativa prieteni, iar seara vom sta la un film ca doi porumbei. Inca nu m-am hotarat ce cadou sa-i iau lui Vio, pentru ca are de toate, nu-i lipseste absolut nimic. Tot ce stiu este ca eu voi primi un inel de aur pe care mi-l doresc de foarte mult timp si un pandantiv”, ne-a declarat Oana.

Mutu si-a rezervat ziua pentru Consuelo
Un alt fotbalist in care romanii isi pusesera baza pentru meciul de aseara cu Croatia a anuntat in ultimul moment ca nu se poate prezenta la lot pentru ca este accidentat. Prin urmare, Adi va fi alaturi de sotie de Valentine’s Day si de copiii lor si vor petrece o Zi a Indragostitilor ca la carte. Fotbalistul i-a pregatit lui Consuelo si fetelor sale multe cadouri, insa nu vrea sa dezvaluie nimic inainte de 14 februarie. Romantic asa cum il stim, Mutu va repeta probabil experienta de anul trecut cand i-a tapetat lui Consuelo toata casa cu petale de trandafiri rosii.

Andreea Banica nu crede in Ziua Indragostitilor
Andreea Banica si sotul ei, Lucian Mitrea, nu au nici un plan pentru Ziua Indragostitilor, pentru ca nu cred in aceasta sarbatoare. „Nu facem nimic, n-avem nici o treaba cu Valentine’s Day si nici cu Dragobetele. La noi, Ziua Indragostitilor este in fiecare zi, nu aniversam dupa anumite date din calendar stabilite de altii”, ne-a spus cantareata. Monica Davidescu si Aurelian Temisan nu sarbatoresc nici ei Valentine’s Day. „In general nu acordam importanta acestei sarbatori comerciale. Va fi o zi obisnuita pentru noi”, ne-a declarat Monica. De altfel, actrita munceste pe 14 februarie, caci va avea spectacol sambata seara cu piesa „Molto gran impresione”, care se joaca cu sala plina la Teatrul National. Nici Rocsana Marcu nu va sarbatori data de 14 februarie. „Nu am aniversat niciodata aceasta zi si nu o voi face nici acum, pentru ca nu cred in astfel de sarbatori, mai ales ca sunt si importate. Momente frumoase alaturi de persoana iubita traiesc si cu, si fara Valentine’s Day, asa ca sambata nu ma abat de la programul obisnuit”, ne-a spus Rocsana. „Daca e sa fie iubire, e in fiecare zi”, ne-a spus si Crina Matei. Artista si iubitul ei, Marius Mihalache, nu au un program special pentru 14 februarie. Cosmina Pasarin va petrece Ziua Indragostitilor prin munca, sambata seara urmand a fi maestru de ceremonii intr-un club select din capitala. „Anul asta muncesc de Valentine’s Day, asa ca nu voi sarbatori. Si chiar daca nu munceam, tot nu sarbatoream pentru ca momentan nu am cu cine. Nu m-am impacat cu Andrei si nici nu mi-am facut un nou iubit in perioada asta. Momentan sunt singura si chiar ma simt foarte bine”, ne-a spus vedeta.

Copii, cadou de 14 februarie pentru Chivu si Ladosi
Nu exista o zi mai potrivita pentru a aduce pe lume un copil decat Ziua Indragostitilor, cred viitorii parinti, multi dintre ei stabilindu-si cu noua luni inainte sa-si intampine copilul chiar de ziua lui Cupidon. Sanda Ladosi a experimentat deja aceasta minune acum doi ani cand l-a nascut pe Bogdan fix pe 14 februarie. Cantareata care urmeaza sa nasca din moment in moment, pentru a doua oara, ar fi foarte fericita daca s-ar intampla din nou miracolul tot de Valentine’s Day. Sanda crede ca bebelusul este cel mai frumos cadou pe care l-ar putea primi de la sotul ei intr-o zi atat de speciala. Astazi, Adelina Chivu urma sa aduca pe lume primul ei copil, prin cezariana, la o clinica din Milano. Cristi a lipsit de la meciul nationalei de fotbal pentru a fi alaturi de ea. Fotbalistul crede ca nu poti trai o fericire mai mare decat in momentul in care iti vezi pentru prima data copilul. El si sotia lui glumeau adesea si spuneau ca ingerasul Cupidon este generos cu ei anul acesta si le va darui cel mai frumos cadou pentru Ziua Indragostitilor, o fetita sanatoasa.

Sursa : Gardianul

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