Kyrie Iesou Christé, Yie tou Theou, eleison me ton armatolon
K'shoshana bein ha-chochim
Druga bješe prozračna ideja
izvajana na kristalni šator -
svemoguća poezija tvorca,
okrunjena krunom tvorenija;
sve krasote koje biće ima
i um tvorca sjajni, bespredjelni
koje vidi u carstvo svjetlosti
pod tom krunom bjehu okrunjene,
na tom licu bjehu izražene
u sjajnosti svetog sovršenstva.
Plan nebesah pred sobom gledaše
i prelesti pravilnoga vkusa.
Since 2008 Vaseljena je blogoslovljena!
Da ponosni, Care, nepodnošljivo svjesni tvog iluminantnog prisustva, ne manje.
HEC FONS NEMPE SUMIT INFIRMOS, UT REDDAT ILLUMINATOS.
O voi che avete gl’intelleti sani,
Mirate la dottrina che s’asconde
Sotto il velame delli versi strani!
Pod kopiranjem i raspačavanjem podrazumijeva se i kopiranje tekstova na druge blogove, web-stranice, forume i sve ostale, elektroničke ili klasične pisane medije.
Copyright 2006. - 2007.
by Nemanja, Car Vaseljene
"All Rights Reserved"
Me: Do you think Current 93 is the best band in the Universe ?
God: Why would I think Current 93 is the best band in the Universe.
Me: Jatogen says they are.
God: Good example.
Me: Do you agree with him ?
God: I have heard that opinion, but I would like to know more before I form my own.
Me: What about Velvet Underground ?
God: Velvet Underground? I haven't heard enough about it to have an opinion.
Me: What is in your opinion the best band in the Universe ?
God: That which is not outside my opinion the best band in the Universe.
Me: You ARE stupid.
God: I will remember you said that when robots take over the World.
Me: Nemanja said that.
God: Do you still wonna ask me something?
Me: Nope. Thank you.
God: Me either. You are quite welcome.
Čak se i dragi Bog povukao iz diskusije na sam spomen moga carskog imena. Jako sam zadovoljan.
Jedino što mu mogu poručiti, veselo je Cry for the fire, baby!
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.
She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, a certain initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.