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Why Hemingway Is Chick-Lit

Women read more fiction than men.

By Lakshmi Chaudhry

“When women stop reading, the novel will be dead,” declared Ian McEwan in the Guardian last year. The British novelist reached this rather dire conclusion after venturing into a nearby park in an attempt to give away free novels. The result? Only one “sensitive male soul” took up his offer, while every woman he approached was “eager and grateful” to… return to article

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    Page 1 of 1 pages

    Hemingway would be pleased.  Although he was incredibly chauvinistic,he wrote for women.  Bill Keller is wrong, in my opinion, non-fiction is useful and sometimes informative, but real ideas, and inspiration leap from good works of fiction.  Fiction enlivens the mind and the spirit.  Most non-fiction puts them to sleep.

    One wonders if President Bush’s reading of Camus’ novel, “The Stranger”, will inspire useful change.  Perhaps, but alas he is not a woman.

    United States Posted by rvrman on Aug 16, 2006 at 1:38 PM

    The novel, for men, is dying because of internet porn.  The novel is dying in general because of television.  It’s time to give up, as a serious writer, when you see that the DaVinci Code and Harry Potter will dominate the lowbrow literary commentary regarding the work of this decade.  And that crappy book about the kid who found his father’s key after nine eleven is considered high art by the high artists.  Sexism in literature, and the evils afforded, pale in comparison with these terrible truths.

    Amen.

    United States Posted by kibitzer on Aug 16, 2006 at 2:41 PM

    As a teacher of literature, I am forced to tach contemporary novels, and go home to read Dickens, Trollope, Burroughs or anyone who keeps clear of empathy with another mind. Lot of this stuff, like Regency Novels at the beginning of the form, is just plain crap to feed emotional vampirism. A single sentence from a novel recommended on Oprah makes me choke. There is a real world out there, and the sooner writers return to it, the better.

    Here is my belief. It’s not that women read more novels; it is that a certain type of woman established its favourite genre, the Harlequin Romance, as our dominant mode. And for the record, kerouac never ruled the literry world, and died making $10,000 dollars a year. How quickly good male writers are forgotten for the trash ramed down students’ throats

    Canada Posted by gooddoctor on Aug 17, 2006 at 9:51 AM

    Hmmm, interesting comments, “gooddoctor”,but a good read to me is a book that ignites something, brain, heart, soul, etc.  Rarely do mediocre works ignite much of anything.  Yes, Kerouac was boring because he could not see beyond the cult.  Hemingway is never boring because you are always a party to the plot. Dickens captures all of you including ones indignation. Mark Twain, liberates one’s humanity and Kurt Vonnegut twists our minds and consciences.

    United States Posted by rvrman on Aug 17, 2006 at 10:21 AM

    I tend to think the problem is the media, the industry. As a struggeling writer - and this may sound a bit arrogant - I do not understand why it’s so hard for a “writer” to get published. I know there’s a lot of krapp out there that lands on publishers desks. I also know that a lot of that krapp a lot of people would read. As an aspiring writer with four unpublished - and, of course, badly written - novels, the greatest challenge I face is not finding readers but getting publishers to talk with me. On top of that so-called lit-agents have become deciders of destiny (for writers). I also believe there is too little originality and depth in what’s being published today. Just read Da Vinci Snot or any other high-selling thriller. Almost all of it has no literary value and practically competes with the TV format.
    Whoopee.
    In case anyone is interested here’s some bad writing for free:
    http://worstwriter.wordpress.com/tag/frictions/chad-the-novel/

    -tgs-

    United States Posted by Tommi on Aug 17, 2006 at 10:53 AM

    Hey Tommi, first, keep the faith.  The longest road to getting published is the easiest for the writer but the roughest path to print.  That way is by writing from the heart to the heart, regardless of subject. The thoughts, the words, the connectivity fly out of you.  Throw plot strategies and marketing manners aside and just write.  You will know when it is working.

    As for those publishers and agents, profit rules, but they all know a story that has come from the heart, and they also know that those books always sell.  Yes, selling not art is their concern.  The art is yours and your readers appreciation of it.  Take a break, look around, find or think about something that moves you, and then tell about it to everyone else - from the heart.

    Cheers.

    United States Posted by rvrman on Aug 17, 2006 at 1:07 PM

    I read a lot of non-fiction as part of my work, so I read fiction as often as possible when I have the time or leisure to do so. I do notice, riding on the metro in the mornings and evenings, that young men and young women are more likely to be sending SMS or listening to ipods than reading, but at the same time I am always seeing young men and women reading, and often reading novels, and often reading very good novels. As for me, I would not have qualified for the £1000 not only because I’m a couple of decades past 25, but also because the last Penguin edition I was reading on the train was Pride and Prejudice. Sorry, gooddoctor, much as I admire Burrough’s experiments in tearing apart the language to expose the mind-control mechanisms, I also care about beautiful prose and characters capable of complex emotional development. Does that make me a vampire? Well, I also loved Buffy the Vampire Slayer…

    I think that Lakshmi Chaudhry’s point that we don’t really know much about historical trends in the sociology of reading is pretty important and that the key to the topic is the way that de-contextualized marketing statistics can be used by certain public intellectuals to advance sexist and essentialist theories of gender in support of a conservative political and cultural agenda. The structure of the industry does matter—it will be much easier to publish a book with a likely huge market and the concentration of the publishing industry has only intensified the role of marketing in editorial decisions. But what cultural forces shape the market? We should be taking Chaudhry’s arguments more seriously here. It’s by failing to engage in the work of exposing sexist non-sense that we permit the David Brooks of the world to blithely cite the poor, put-upon Lawrence Summers in defence of the absurd notion that the dominant ideology can’t get a hearing anywhere. We should be asking how Summers, a very rich, powerful white man in charge of a major intellectual institution, could speak so authoritatively and influentially on topics for which he obviously had not done his homework. At least Summers was called out for his gaffe; why let Brooks or the rest of the conservative establishment off the hook? Why do we remain so allergic to criticizing sexism?

    United Kingdom Posted by spike on Aug 28, 2006 at 2:41 AM

    Hi Tommy,

    Have you heard of Lulu.com?

    United States Posted by barbatus on Aug 28, 2006 at 12:38 PM

    I think men are much more discriminating readers than are women.
    We like non-fiction because, almost always, its WYSWYG. Read the
    foreword and you can be reasonably confident that you will like the book. Not so with fiction hype.

    Personally I would much prefer a good work of fiction than the most
    erudite work of non-fiction. It’s just that it’s so damn difficult to find good fiction outside the classics, and I have read all of them. So, sometimes
    I re-read them, which is not reported in booksales.

    Canada Posted by evreman on Aug 28, 2006 at 2:44 PM

    By what margin would womens readership figure outway mens if all Mills and Boon novels and other such braindead rubbish were removed from the stats.

    Ireland Posted by Oliver on Aug 30, 2006 at 9:47 AM

    I am surprised to learn that my reading habits are gender specific (chuckle), though I suppose it’s not impossible.

    I read a lot. I read science, politics, current events, history, technology. Not much time left for reading novels (though occasional short stories do come through).

    Whether gender related or not (evolution has created some interesting specializations) to me it’s more of a matter of getting the most information out of my reading time.

    jayh

    United States Posted by jayh on Aug 30, 2006 at 10:51 AM

    Or, just maybe, if men are natural seekers after money and status (or conditioned by society to do so), many of our producers and consumers of creative fiction may find the rewards much higher in the corporate world (eg. Enron) or in government service.  Just a thought.  Or am I too cynical?

    ...Mike

    Australia Posted by mfunnell on Aug 31, 2006 at 8:53 PM

    Men being more visually stimulated (being one and knowing many I can say this) has made them more vulnerable to media - TV, videos, video games. Watching too much TV is akin to eating too much junk food. The easier it is to obtain and consume the lazier we become, the easier we want it to be to obtain and consume…

    Maybe I’m simplifying. Why do my two older boys like watching TV so much now. When they were younger it was less important. Peer pressure has made it more so. They are both big readers but if we let them watch unlimited TV they would. I used to watch unlimited TV as a child. I think those of us who have lived it have to know that it did nothing good for / to us. We should know better.

    I watch about one movie every two weeks and about 2 shows a month. I read between 3-5 books a month. I like to write. I spend time talking with my wife and I read about 30 articles a month. I’ve pretty much given up TV - too unsatisfying - leaves you either hungry or bloated. It hasn’t been totally conscious - the less I watched, the less I wanted to. Variety is part of it. The more widely I read the more I enjoy reading. The more narrow my reading the more easily I bore of it. I’m reading Old Man and the Sea to my boys. They really like it. They really enjoyed Fahrenheit 451. My oldest just read Lord of the Flies. We talk about what they read. I could go on and on.

    Cut the cable, kill the sat dish - do what you have to...and read

    Canada Posted by aquraishi on Sep 5, 2006 at 7:39 PM

    Moments of youth.

    The tracing fountain of an autumnal sunset lies
    in the plan remembering the sun, while, distantly,
    moments of youth fall hiding the old time of a
    young and feeble kiss.
    And the hearth seems a singing in the endless of
    his love.

    Francesco Sinibaldi – Italy
    Traduzione di Francesco Sinibaldi – Italy

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Oct 15, 2006 at 7:50 AM

    The girl with golden hairs.

    Il tramonto rosato
    e a tratti silente
    d’incanto ritorna
    ove nasce un sorriso,
    e nel soffio
    dell’amato bagliore;
    s’odon vagare
    le miti atmosfere
    d’un tempo passato,
    ma tu sei nel
    canto, la dolce
    ragazza dai capelli
    dorati.

    The girl with golden hairs.

    The weak and
    delightful sunset
    returns, magically,
    where a moss-rose
    appears and a blast
    of air imagines
    a flower; I hear
    the fine atmosphere
    of a fabulous past,
    and you’re in a
    song, the northern
    girl with golden
    hairs…..

    Francesco Sinibaldi Italy

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Dec 26, 2006 at 10:49 AM

    And a thought makes a pleasure…

    Silently, when the sunshine presents
    memories and tender emotions, a little
    refrain returns in a delicate sadness, and
    then, like water in stream, remembers the
    youth.
    And that’s in my mind, amiable and sad.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jan 7, 2007 at 8:51 AM

    That’s Olivia / The song of your life.

    A romantic look,
    in the breath
    of a rising wind,
    and always refined,
    early in the morning,
    when the voice’s
    pleasure remembers
    a care to the
    chiming of the bells;
    that gentle footpath
    is the song of
    your life, and a
    beautiful sunshine
    describes an emotion
    when the sunset
    returns.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 4, 2007 at 8:39 AM

    And a light everywhere…..

    The matutinal field,
    when the sunshine
    returns recalling
    a present and
    a beautiful sound,
    in a crying fades away,
    with a delicate
    care in the breath
    of a sorrow.
    I hear perpetual
    sounds of a past
    atmosphere, and a
    light everywhere,
    amiable and true.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 10, 2007 at 4:57 PM

    You’re my sunshine.

    Tenderly, when
    the sunset turns dark
    and a song disappears,
    a little vocalism
    remembers the quietness
    of a beautiful
    waterfall, and the
    stillness delays,
    like a sturdy sparrow
    forgetting the sun.
    You’re in my
    sunshine, and a word
    fades away.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 17, 2007 at 4:25 PM

    With the joy in my heart.

    Listening to the
    delicate wind, and
    when a loving portrait
    appears in the light
    of my heart, near
    a beautiful sunshine
    the luminous candle
    presents an imagine
    and a blazing beginning,
    and then, in the
    morning, a flame
    disappears.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Feb 24, 2007 at 3:18 PM

    In the light he used to be….

    In the light
    he used to be, and
    sometimes, like
    a swallow coming
    back on the nest’s
    sound, he often
    remembered a tender
    and sincere idea,
    the same that always
    returns in the night
    to present, in a moment,
    a sunny perfection.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 3, 2007 at 3:58 PM

    On the sunset I lie…

    In a whisper
    the sun’s voice
    presents normal
    concepts and sunny
    weepings of a romantic
    era, and then, like
    the wind in the heat
    of an autumnal candle,
    a crying overcomes,
    and a beauty appears
    in the light of
    your heart. 

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 10, 2007 at 4:28 PM

    If you were here today.
    ( In memory of John Lennon )

    It’s easy to speak in the sunshine
    that never returns, remembering a
    pleasure, like a delicate leaf falling
    alone in the song of your painful
    heart; and when a sorrow comes back
    in a feeble and tender delight, I hear
    your image, a desolate dark while
    my crying overcomes.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 17, 2007 at 4:04 PM

    And a beauty in the sun.

    A tempest returns
    when the light of
    my pleasure discovers
    a dream: everywhere
    the sun disappears,
    beautiful birds escape
    in the nest of a
    sweet atmosphere,
    and a weeping inside,
    a tender recall while
    a song fades away.

    http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/mbarts/F2234233?thread=3971968

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 24, 2007 at 2:55 PM

    Sullen behaviour.

    Sullen behaviour,
    beautiful moment
    arising alone
    when my mind
    overcomes, tender
    idea, I see your
    profile in the nest
    of a magical darkness,
    and even a pleasure
    describes an emotion
    while a candle
    appears, recalling
    the faith, with tears
    in one’s eyes. 

    http://pub30.bravenet.com/guestbook/2504194210

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Mar 31, 2007 at 2:56 PM

    It’s a new day.

    It’s a new day,
    here, where the light
    of my sunshine
    appears like a soul
    in a springtime.
    It’s a wonderful day,
    beautiful birds
    escape in the valley
    remembering the breath
    of a young lullaby,
    and also, in the air,
    a tender delight
    discovers a pleasure.

    http://books.dreambook.com/tajikistan/tajikistan.html

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Apr 7, 2007 at 2:55 PM

    And always comes again…

    Sweet little darling, delicate candle
    arising alone when a fire fades away,
    beautiful moment, listen to me: a tender
    and sullen desire appears in my mind
    when the rain falls again, and a blackbird
    returns, like the song of the winter in
    the tears of your eyes.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Apr 14, 2007 at 1:34 PM

    When your sun fades away…

    Sun, beautiful care
    arising alone
    while the candle
    delights, a luminous
    fate, tonight,
    comes back in
    a moment forgetting
    a pleasure and a
    feeble portrait : and
    a wonder sometimes,
    a crying in the air
    while your sun
    fades away…

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Apr 21, 2007 at 1:34 PM

    Reason in life.

    Beautiful sunset, when I touch your
    profile a tracing and luminous candle
    appears near a martin with a lovely
    face, and always, at the end of a day,
    a delicate feeling remembers to life
    the sound of a swallow, a beautiful
    care arising alone….

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Apr 28, 2007 at 1:33 PM

    In the darkness, sometimes…

    At cock-crow,
    when an healthy
    hen overtakes,
    skipping and flopping
    the wings, near the
    sound of a delicate
    pebble, I hear a
    blackbird recalling
    the youth with
    a soapy short jump,
    and a wonder,
    sometimes, describes
    an emotion.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on May 5, 2007 at 1:14 PM

    Crying for the moon.

    There’s a picture
    where the light
    of a candle, at a
    gulp, arrives near
    the jump of a
    beautiful answer,
    and always, while
    a barking comes
    back presenting a
    blackbird and a
    tender idea, my
    beautiful sun
    forsakes an illusion.

    http://www.forolibre.net/foro/showthread.php?t=56809

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on May 12, 2007 at 1:13 PM

    This is your England / Thanks Elton.

    Sometimes, when a
    lively moss-rose
    arrives near a
    pebble recalling
    a tern and a
    beautiful smile, a
    delicate candle
    extends a distraction
    like a gentle
    footpath in the crying
    of your feeling
    and then, in a perfume,
    the sound of a
    swallow returns
    in the air.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on May 19, 2007 at 1:10 PM

    Speaking to the world.

    There’s a meadow
    sometimes at the end
    of a delicate candle,
    and often, when
    you’re speaking
    to the world,
    a line disappears
    regarding a pleasure
    to the song of
    the bells, that
    beautiful care arising
    alone when a
    voice fades away…

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    http://www.vidaribatejana.pt/show.asp?id=849&fid=18&tid=0

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on May 26, 2007 at 2:00 PM

    Softly, in a pleasure.

    And always a
    blackbird appears
    in the sky like
    a gentle caprice
    in the pain of
    a feature; a beautiful
    sunset returns
    in the air, a crying
    overcomes and
    softly, in a dream,
    the light of a
    candle describes
    an emotion.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jun 2, 2007 at 1:03 PM

    I think, Sue…

    The magical sunshine arrives near a dream
    like a luminous darkness in a golden design;
    and while the sound of a blackbird appears
    in a pleasure remembering the youth, while
    a candle escapes recalling the sign of a
    beautiful care, when a crying overcomes,
    I think, Sue, there’s even a flame in the light
    of a sunrise….

    http://forum.onet.pl/0,2,1,0,9165,31145666,84865202,uforum.html?ufSort=

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jun 9, 2007 at 1:20 PM

    I write novels (none as yet published), even though I personally prefer to READ nonfiction--these days, at least. On the whole, I think the quality of nonfiction being written these days may be superior to that of fiction. I don’t remember ANY work of fiction recently that involved me nearly as much as McCullough’s biography of John Adams.
    Yeah, I’m a dude. But when it comes to (serious) fiction, I much prefer the “girly” stuff--by which I mean stories with lots of psychological nuance. Even with male writers--I much prefer Faulkner and Henry James to Hemingway, and am inclined to think Hemingway would have been a greater writer if he hadn’t been so afraid (yes, afraid) of the “feminine” aura of fiction--which, incidentally, has ALWAYS been there, even in the earliest days of prose fiction (remember all those romantic subplots in Don Quixote?).
    I guess I don’t know what all the fuss is about. As a group, men don’t talk about (and probably don’t THINK about) what’s going on inside themselves with NEARLY the ease women do (just ask any marriage counselor about the differences between how the husbands and the wives engage, typically, in therapy).
    A lot of this is acculturation, of course, but why should we be surprised to see the same gender pattern be reflected in reading habits?

    United States Posted by parkerya on Jun 10, 2007 at 11:29 AM

    At daybreak, playing the piano / Paul’s memory.

    When the light
    of a new morning
    arrives near
    a balcony touching
    sounds and delicate
    marvels, I hear
    a voice; an eternal
    sadness, taking
    care of me, invents
    the profile of
    a luminous candle,
    the rain fades
    away remembering
    the time of a
    fallen desire and
    then, in the sunshine,
    your delicate care
    discovers a dream….. 

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jun 16, 2007 at 1:09 PM

    And always, in a similar manner…

    Remembering the sound of a beautiful night,
    and waiting for a pleasure, I see a delicate
    leaf arriving alone near a golden portrait ; the
    wind fades away, the care of a blackbird
    discovers a dream and always, in a similar
    manner, a sullen desire describes an emotion…..

    http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/mbarts/F2234233?thread=4281482

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jun 23, 2007 at 12:57 PM

    Sleep, little darling.

    In the dead of night, while a sound
    disappears forgetting an answer and a
    beautiful care, sleep little darling; your
    eyes appear in the air reading aloud a
    delicate story, a moving profile returns
    in the dark, and when a line fades away
    describing a soul and a sullen desire,
    remember, alone, the light of a sunrise…

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jun 30, 2007 at 1:06 PM

    Escaping from myself / Like a flame in the sadness.

    I sing in an airy morning, and I’m
    happy when a blackbird returns in
    my head describing a picture and a
    fallen desire; I wait for the sound of
    a beautiful care, and always, while
    a candle appears in the air with the
    breath of a dream, I pray to the sun,
    and a light disappears like a flame
    in a sadness…

    http://engforum.pravda.ru/showthread.php3?threadid=199365

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jul 7, 2007 at 1:39 PM

    This is the answer.

    In the dead
    of winter, when
    the sound of
    the nature arrived
    near a luminous care,
    in the darkness,
    I saw her with a
    graceful dress and
    a sullen behaviour;
    the bird ran away
    like a painful dreamer,
    a loving profile
    returned in a marvel
    and then, in a moment,
    a delicate wind
    discovered the sun: she
    said “let it be”, and
    this is the answer……

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jul 14, 2007 at 1:02 PM

    Only words.

    Like a sweet melody arising alone
    near the sound of a blackbird, remember,
    by night, and listen to me: these are
    only words, and so for the most part.
    But when the sun of the morning returns
    in the darkness with a delicate wind,
    when a sorrow arrives like a beautiful
    sound at the foot of the mountain, when
    your crying overcomes, remember, my
    care, there’s even a pleasure in the light
    of a sunrise…

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    http://www.el-informador.com/foro/viewtopic.php?t=4320

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jul 21, 2007 at 12:58 PM

    That’s in my mind.

    That’s the profile
    of a beautiful meadow,
    and that’s in my
    mind like a delicate
    leaf in the cold
    of the darkness; I
    see pleasant and
    tender ideas where
    the sound of the
    care arrives near a
    blackbird, thinking
    alone, like the
    sun in the water.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Jul 28, 2007 at 1:02 PM

    And always, remember….

    Near a waterfall, at the mercy of the wind
    and when a delicate leaf solicits a bird in
    the light of a sunrise, I see your profile;
    with a gentle behaviour you make a request
    to the sound of a sorrow, you’re praying to
    the sun, and when a weeping arrives on your
    delicate face recalling the past and a wasted
    sweetheart remember, my grace, and always
    reflect: it’s only a deception, and so it doesn’t
    matter, there’s even the sunshine when a light
    fades away…. 

    http://www.findsingapore.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=6453

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Aug 4, 2007 at 12:57 PM

    In the sound sleep of a kitten.

    Quietness and calm
    when the light
    of a luminous candle
    arrives at the end
    of a dream, instantly,
    like a gentle breeze
    in the care of the
    darkness; and always
    a sound in its heart,
    a delicate eye arising
    alone when your
    crying overcomes.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Aug 11, 2007 at 12:57 PM

    I’ll be there.

    Listening to the sound of a deep little
    brook, and going to a watering-place,
    a delicate care returns in my head; the
    wind fades away while I climb to the top
    of a mountain, and when a dove makes
    a pleasure with a beautiful flight, therefore,
    in a moment, a forcible voice reappears
    in the dark: and I’ll be there, like a light
    in the sunrise….. 

    http://forum.delo.si/viewtopic.php?t=3270

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Aug 18, 2007 at 12:59 PM

    From morning till night.

    At dusk, when
    your memory takes
    care of a beautiful
    past, a seraphic idea
    returns, cordially,
    at the end of a
    luminous comet;
    and here, without
    delay, an identical
    future describes
    in a candle a slender
    delight.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Aug 25, 2007 at 1:07 PM

    Erika here / Et ici ma lumière….

    I’m happy when a passing cloud invites me
    to smile in the darkness of a melody, while
    the sunshine fades away recalling a pleasure
    and a delicate care; I’m glad to describe you
    in the light of a feeling and always, when a
    candle arrives, your magical dream discovers
    a fate…..

    http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/mbarts/F2234233?thread=4522950

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Sep 1, 2007 at 12:57 PM

    The light of a fine day / Good morning Princess.
    ( other version )

    In the dead of
    night, when a
    charming breath
    discovers the taste
    of an intense emotion,
    and sometimes, a
    magical care returns
    on your sensible
    hand, and always,
    Louise, like water
    in stream, a delicate
    sight reappears in
    the darkness….. 

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Sep 8, 2007 at 12:59 PM

    In the darkness of a melody.

    There’s a leak
    at the end of a distant
    delight, and often,
    when a delicate
    line arrives in the
    fear of a blackbird,
    a tender profile
    invents, in a moment,
    the light of a
    sunrise, the luminous
    charm recalling
    the past.

    http://es.5wk.com/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=99308

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Sep 15, 2007 at 2:17 PM

    In the tears of a shadow.

    Near the streamlet,
    and where a rustic
    fireplace remembers
    the sound of a
    countryside, I see
    a timid and innocent
    care; and besides,
    like the scent
    of a swallow, a
    tender bell-finger
    discovers a faith.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Sep 22, 2007 at 12:52 PM

    When Paul said….

    In the sound
    of a darkness and while
    a delicate wind
    again fades away,
    a magical voice appears
    light as a feather,
    and always, when a
    weeping willow presents
    the song of a blackbird
    and a wasted desire,
    I try to forget
    a luminous vision;
    that sun disappears,
    the care of a sadness
    invents the profile
    of a beautiful day
    and then, at the same
    time, I turn in
    a marvel remembering
    the words, when
    Paul said: “..and anytime
    you feel the pain…”.

    http://pub30.bravenet.com/guestbook/2504194210

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Sep 29, 2007 at 12:55 PM

    For all the people in the world.

    For the sound of a gentle delight describing
    a candle and a loving profile, for a luminous care
    that now fades away leaving a flame on a delicate
    sadness, for a beautiful ground now forgetting
    a tear, and then, in the sunshine, for all the people
    in the world, for the song of a weeping in the
    light of a sunrise….

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    http://www.poesia-creativa.it/francesco_sinibaldi4.htm

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Oct 6, 2007 at 12:55 PM

    In the cold.

    In the cold
    of a darkness
    I see the profile
    of a beautiful sun,
    and so, when
    a pleasure seems
    a sorrow at the
    end of the morning,
    I hear the sensitive
    wind recalling
    my faith.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    http://pub30.bravenet.com/guestbook/2504194210

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Oct 13, 2007 at 12:56 PM

    In the dreamland.

    With a dray-horse
    that feeling
    arrives near the
    sound of a bell-glass,
    and under a bed
    a beautiful care
    designs the portrait
    of a delicate sadness: it’s
    a dreamland, the
    tender profile now
    recalling the past.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Oct 20, 2007 at 12:55 PM

    A lover, the faith, a graceful desire.

    There’s a gracious
    desire where
    the light of a lamp,
    with a good grace,
    presents in a moment
    the care of a
    beautiful sunset,
    and also that dream,
    in a delicate candle,
    remembers at once
    a luminous lover. 

    http://forum.mazzako.com/index.php?topic=11658.0

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Oct 27, 2007 at 12:51 PM

    Searching for an answer.

    The whisper of
    a sibilant wind
    imagines, feeling
    the cold and when
    a light fades
    away, beautiful
    moments of a fearless
    and courageous
    wonder, describing
    a dream, and waiting
    for a meaning; but
    a weeping returns,
    and that’s in your
    mind, like a glimmer
    of hope and a
    delicate sadness
    recalling the past
    in the light of
    a wisdom.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Europe Posted by Sinibaldi on Nov 3, 2007 at 1:50 PM

    Words of wisdom.

    Walking a long
    way in search of
    a feeling the snow,
    fallen again in
    the dark of a
    footprint, describes
    the profile of
    a sibilant hail-storm,
    and that fountain
    rejoices like an
    useful singing.

    http://messageboard.biafranigeriaworld.com/ultimatebb.cgi/ubb/get_topic/f/11/t/0 000026.html

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    Italy Posted by Sinibaldi on Nov 10, 2007 at 1:50 PM
    Page 1 of 1 pages
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