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Poetry in Translation (CXCII): Eeva Karin KILPI, Finland, (b. 1928), “He stepped inside my door”, “Intrând pe uşe”

May 28th, 2013 · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CXCII): Eeva Karin KILPI, Finland, (b. 1928), “He stepped inside my door’, “Intrând pe uşe”

Eeva KILPI, Finnish Poet

Eeva KILPI, Finnish Poet

Eeva Kilpi (1928- ) Finland

HE STEPPED INSIDE MY DOOR

Let me know right away
if I’m disturbing you.
he said
as he stepped inside my door,
and i”ll leave the way I came.

Not only do you disturb me,
I answered,
You turn my whole world
upside down.
Welcome.

Eeva Kilpi (1928- ) Finlanda

INTRÂND PE UŞE

Spune-mi drept
dacă te deranjez,
m-a întrebat el,
intrând pe uşe,
şi o să plec imediat.

Nu numai că mă derajezi,
i-am răspuns,
dar mi-ai întors întreaga lume,
pe dos.
Bine ai venit!

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

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Poetry in Translation (CXCI): Ernest DAWSON, England, (1867-1900), “Vitae suma brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam”, “Sum of life”, “Crâmpei de viaţă”

May 28th, 2013 · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CXCI): Ernest DAWSON, England, (1867-1900), “Vitae suma brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam”, “Sum of life”, “Crâmpei de viaţă”

Ernest DAWSON, Poet

Ernest DAWSON, Poet

Crâmpei de viaţă
ERNEST DAWSON (1867 – 1900)

Nu au ecou, nici râsul dela masă,
Nici plânsul din trecut, pribeagul.
Din inimă nu ne-am clădit o casă,
Când trecem pragul.

Căci zilele-nsorite şi de visuri
De mult s-au stins.
Un drum se pierde prin hătişuri
De dor cuprins.

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Vitae suma brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam
ERNEST DAWSON (1867 – 1900)

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.

They are not long the days of wine and roses,
Out of a misty dream:
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a deam.

Ernest DAWSON

SHORT BIO:
Ernest Christopher Dowson
(2 August 1867 – 23 February 1900) was an English poet, novelist and writer of short stories associated with the Decadent movement. He was a member of the Rhymers’ Club, which included W. B. Yeats and also was a prolific translator of French fiction, including novels by Balzac and the Goncourt brothers, and Les Liaisons dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos.
In 1889, at the age of 23, Dowson fell in love with the eleven-year-old Adelaide “Missie” Foltinowicz, the daughter of a Polish restaurant owner. Adelaide is reputed to be the subject of one his best-known poems, “Vita suma brevis”. He died of alcoholism, at the age of 32.

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Poetry in Translation (CXC): Federico Garcia LORCA, Spain, (1898-1936), “Memento”

May 21st, 2013 · International Media, PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations, Uncategorized

Poetry in Translation (CXC): Federico Garcia LORCA, Spain, (1898-1936), “Memento”

Memento
(Federico Garcia LORCA)
(1898-1936)

Cuando yo me muera,
enterradme con mi guitarra
bajo la arena.
Cuando yo me muera,
entre los naranjos y la hierbabuena.
Cuando yo me muera,
enterradme si quer�is en una veleta.
�Cuando yo me muera!

Memento
(Federico Garcia LORCA)
(1898-1936)

Când voi muri,
îngropați- mă cu chitara mea
sub nisip.
Când voi muri,
în livada de portocali și mentă.
Când voi muri,
înmormântați-mă poate într-o giruetă.
Când voi muri!

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

Memento
(Federico Garcia LORCA)
(1898-1936)

When I die,
bury me with my guitar
under the sand.
When I die,
among the orange and peppermint.
When I die,
bury me, if you wish, in a weathervane.
When I die,

(Rendered in English by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXIX): Federico Garcia LORCA, Spain, (1898-1936), “Saeta”

May 21st, 2013 · Diaspora, International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations, Uncategorized

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXIX): Federico Garcia LORCA, Spain, (1898-1936), “Saeta”

black jesus

Saeta
Federico Garcia LORCA
(1898-1936)

Cristo moreno
pasa
de lirio de Judea
a clavel de España.

¡Miradlo, por dónde viene!

De España.
Cielo limpio y oscuro,
tierra tostada,
y cauces donde corre
muy lenta el agua.
Cristo moreno,
con las guedejas quemadas,
los pómulos salientes
y las pupilas blancas.

¡Miradlo, por dónde va!

* * * * * * *

White lily

Saeta
Federico Garcia LORCA
(1898-1936)

Iisus cu faţa cernită
se schimbă
din crinul pur al Iudeei
în garoafa sângerândă a Spaniei!

Uite de unde vine!

Din Spania.
Cer limpede întunecat,
pământ încins
şi albii de râu unde apa
curge leneşă.
Iisus cu faţa cernită,
cu plete lungi,
pomeţi crânceni
şi pupile albe.

Uite unde se duce!

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN, London,
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

* * * * * * *

carnation

Saeta

Dark-skinned Christ
changes
from lily of Judea
to carnation of Spain.

Look where he comes from!

From Spain.
Sky clear and dark,
scorched earth,
and riverbeds where water
runs ever so slowly.
Dark-skinned Christ,
with long, burnt hair,
high cheekbones,
and his pupils, white.

Look where he goes!
* * * * * * *

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXVIII): Tomaž ŠALAMUN, (b. 1941) Slovenian Poet, “Thought ‘64”, “Gând ‘64”

April 22nd, 2013 · International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXVIII): Tomaž ŠALAMUN, (b. 1941) Slovenian Poet, “Thought ‘64”, “Gând ‘64”

Tomaz SALAMUN, Poet, Slovenia

Tomaz SALAMUN,
Poet, Slovenia

Thought ‘64 (Duma ‘64)
Tomaž ŠALAMUN, (b. 1941)

Screwed by the Absolute,
gorged with virgins and other deadly wounded,
I love you, O my fellow-creatures, you who are humble godfather’s flash of wit;
I love you, O you complete personalities of sweet observations; in my spirit, mercy has moved.
O you, owners of mental grief,
O you, fawning intellectuals with small sweaty hands,
O you, logicians – vegetarians – with a diopter of minus fifteen,
O you, rectors with muzzles on your snouts,
O you, ideologists with your prostitute ideologies,
O you, academicians who chew gingerbread from Skofja Loka as well as punctuations,
O you, mummies who applaud passions and sufferings in an academic way,
You, Pascals who are trying hard and you Bachs who have succeeded,
O you, lyricists who are drying up with delight,
O you, gardeners – the rationalists and swallows,
O Thou, Socialism a la Louis XIV, or with idea of how to prevent cruelty to animals,
O you, hundred thirty five constitutional bodies, or what to do with the carrion cat in order not
to have it stink,
O you, revolution of all the people’s masses, or where is the sanatorium to cure us of impotence.
I have walked throughout our country and got an ulcer;
country of Zimpermanns and of their pimply lady-adorers,
country of servants, myths and pedagogy;
O you, steady Slovenians, you, objects of history who caught a cold.
* * * * * * * * * *

Tomaž Šalamun (b. 1941, Zagreb)
Poet Sloven

Gând’64

Răvăşit de Absolut,
Răsfăţat de fecioare şi trupuri muribunde,
O, semenii mei, vă ador, voi care sunteţi zvâcnirea sufletului neprihănit de haiduc
O, voi, personajii absolute ale observaţiilor rafinate: în fiinţa mea, s-a născut iertarea
O, voi, deţinători a suferinţei psihologice,
O voi, trepăduşi intelectuali cu palme transpirate
O, voi, profesori vegetarieni de Logică, cu dioptrii de minus cincisprezece
O, voi, rectori cu botniţă,
O, voi, propagandişti cu ideologia voastră prostituată
O, voi, academicieni, mestecând turta dulce din piaţă, laolaltă cu punctuaţia,
O, voi, mumiilor ce aplaudaţi, într-un stil academic, de-a valma, pasiunile şi durerile,
Voi, urmaşii lui Pascal, care vă scremeţi şi urmaşi ai lui Bach, care aţi parvenit
O, voi poeţi lirici care vă ofiliţi de plăcere
Voi, grădinari care îngrădesc zborul rândunelelor
Voi, Socialisti în stil Bourbon, obsedaţi de prevenţia cruzimii animalelor
O voi, comisari a celor o sută trei zeci si cinci de comisii constituţionale, desemnate să decidă solutia optimă de a dispune de hoitul pisicii, ca să nu pută.
O, tu, revoluţie a maselor populare, în căutarea spitalului de prevenţie a impotenţei
Am preumblat toată tara, ca să mă aleg cu un ulcer;
Ţară de Zimpermanni adoraţi de codoaşe
ţară de servitori, mituri şi pedagogie,
O, voi, cetăţeni de nădejde ai Sloveniei, voi, obiect al istoriei, pe care l-a picnit o răceală.

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

Tomaz Salamun - Poems

Tomaz Salamun – Poems

SHORT BIO NOTE:
Tomaž Šalamun is a Slovenian poet, born in 1941 in Croatia, and raised in Koper, Slovenia.
He attended the high school in Koper, where he gained his interest in philology.
In 1960, Šalamun enrolled at the University of Ljubljana, to study art history and history. Four years later, in 1964, as editor of a literary magazine “Perspektive”, he published his iconoclastic poem, Duma ’64 (Thought ’64). This brought the ire of the Tito regime, which banned the publication of “Perspektive”. Šalamun was arrested, as one of the Communist hardliners, Ivan Maček Matija, recognized himself in the (dead) cat from the poem (the name Maček is cat in English). Consequently, Šalamun spent five days in jail only to come out something of a hero. In spite of this, the young Tomaž refrained from including the controversial poem in his first poetry book, which appeared in 1966 in a samizdat edition: thiswas replete with absurdist irreverence, playfulness and abandon.
Šalamun had several collections of poetry published in English, including The Selected Poems of Tomaž Šalamun (Ecco Press, 1998); The Shepherd, the Hunter (Pedernal, 1992); The Four Questions of Melancholy (White Pine, 1997); Feast (Harcourt, 2000), “Poker” (Ugly Duckling Presse), “Row!” (Arc Publications), “The Book for My Brother” (Harcourt), “Woods and Chalices” (Harcourt), and “There’s the Hand and There’s the Arid Chair” (Counterpath, 2009).
He has won a Pushcart Prize, as well as the Slovenia’s Prešeren Fund Award and Jenko Prize. Šalamun and his German translator, Fabjan Hafner, were awarded the European Prize for Poetry by the German city of Muenster. In 2004, he was the recipient of Romania’s Ovid Festival Prize.

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXVII): Lewis CARROLL (1832-1898), English Poet of Anglo-Irish stock, “The Crocodile”, “Crocodilul”

April 21st, 2013 · PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXVII): Lewis CARROLL (1832-1898), English Poet of Anglo-Irish stock, “The Crocodile”, “Crocodilul”

cavendish crocodile

The Crocodile
by Lewis Carroll

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in,
With gently smiling jaws!

Lewis Carroll Nursery Rhymes

Lewis Carroll Nursery Rhymes

Crocodilul
Lewis Carroll
(1832-1898)

Cum face micul crocodil
S-arate solzii săi
Sclipind în unda de pe Nil
Prin mii de mici scântei!

În gură fericit îi lasă
Toţi peştii, ca prieteni vechi,
Să intre, şi îi şi înhaţă,
Cu-n zâmbet până la urechi.

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* * * * * * * * *

Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll

Short Bio Note:
Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (27 January 1832 – 14 January 1898), better known by the pen name Lewis Carroll was an English writer of Anglo-Irish stock. As a true Victorian polymath he made signal contributions as a writer, mathematician and logician, as well as being an Anglican deacon and photographer. His most famous writings are Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass, as well as the poems “The Hunting of the Snark” and “Jabberwocky”, all examples of the genre of literary nonsense. He is noted for his facility at word play, logic, and fantasy. There are Lewis Carroll societies in many parts of the world.

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXVI): Arvo Turtianen (1904-1980), Finland, Poet, “Loveliest Poem”, “Cel mai frumos poem”

April 19th, 2013 · PEOPLE, Poetry, quotations, Translations

Arvo Turtiainen

Arvo Turtiainen

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXVI): Arvo Turtianen (1904-1980), Finland, Poet, “Loveliest Poem”, “Cel mai frumos poem”

Arvo Turtianen (1904-1980)
LOVELIEST POEM

The loveliest poem is born
when you are close to someone,
when tenderness,
simple and boundless,
without questions
flows from one to the other.

You do not forget the loveliest poem.
It is stamped on your forehead, eyes,
lips and heart,
stamped for lovers to read,
for lovers to surrender

* * * * * * *

Cel mai frumos poem
Arvo Turtiainen (1904-1980)

Cel mai frumos poem se înfiripă
când eşti alături de cineva,
când iubirea,
simplă şi nemărginită,
fără nici un semn de întrebare
se împărtăşeşte de amândoi.

Poemul cel mai frumos nu se uită.
El este înscris pe frunte, pe ochi,
pe buze şi inimă,
înscris, pentru ca toţi iubiţii să poată vedea,
să depună armele.

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

* * * * * * * *

SHORT BIO NOTE:
Arvo Turtiainen (1904-1980). Finish-born and bred in a working-class family of Helsinki, the poet embraced since early life the avowed ideals of Communism: it took him the best of half a century to disown them, after visits to the Soviet Union, China and the repression of the working class uprisings in Berlin, Warsaw and Prague. Turtiainen’s vernacular coarseness, and critical attitude towards society, was largely accepted as a part of his folksy, talkative character. He also wrote radio plays, essays, and translated such writer as Vladimir Mayakovsky, Graham Greene, Edgar Lee Masters, Walt Whitman, and Pasternak’s poems from Doctor Zhivago with Helvi Juvonen. In 1973 Turtiainen was made honorary doctor at the University of Helsinki.

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXV): Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986), Argentina, Poet, “Limite“, “Límites“ “Limits” (fragments)

April 19th, 2013 · Poetry, quotations, Translations, Uncategorized

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXV): Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986), Argentina, Poet, “Limite“, “Límites“ “Limits” (fragments)

Ophelia

Limite (fragmente)
Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986)

Dintre cărările mergând spre miază-noapte
care o fi? mai este poate una
prin care am păşit ultima oară
condus fiind de-o nevăzută Mână.

Mai e vre-o uşe-nchisă, bună oară,
sau vre-o oglindă dând spre veşnicie?
răscrucile de drum nu ne confundă
dar Ianus ne pândeşte pe vecie.

Din valma de-amintiri întotdeauna
va fi pierdută din noiane, una.
nu te-om zări la apa din grădină,
nici la amiază, nici sub clar de lună.

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* * * * * * *

Límites
Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986)

De estas calles que ahondan el poniente,
una habrá (no sé cuál) que he recorrido
ya por última vez, indiferente
y sin adivinarlo, sometido.

Para siempre cerraste alguna puerta
y hay un espejo que te aguarda en vano;
la encrucijada te parece abierta
y la vigila, cuadrifronte, Jano.

Hay, entre todas tus memorias, una
que se ha perdido irreparablemente;
no te verán bajar a aquella fuente
ni el blanco sol ni la amarilla luna.

* * * * * * *

Limits (fragments)
Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986)

Of all the streets that blur in to the sunset,
There must be one (which, I am not sure)
That I by now have walked for the last time
Without guessing it, the pawn of that Someone

There is a door you have closed forever
And some mirror is expecting you in vain;
To you the crossroads seem wide open,
Yet watching you, four-faced, is a Janus.

There is among all your memories one
Which has now been lost beyond recall.
You will not be seen going down to that fountain
Neither by white sun nor by yellow moon.

* * * * * * *

Borges as a young man

Borges as a young man

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXIV): Jacques PRÉVERT (1900 – 1977), France, Poet: “Cântecul Senei”, “Chanson de la Seine ”

April 18th, 2013 · Poetry, quotations, Translations

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXIV): Jacques PRÉVERT (1900 – 1977), France, Poet: “Chanson de la Seine”, “Cântecul Senei”

Seine Paris

Jacques Prevert
(1900 – 1977)
Chanson de la Seine

La Seine a de la chance
Elle n’a pas de souci
Elle se la coule douce
Le jour comme la nuit
Et elle sort de sa source
Tout doucement, sans bruit…
Sans sortir de son lit
Et sans se faire de mousse,
Elle s’en va vers la mer
En passant par Paris.
La Seine a de la chance
Elle n’a pas de souci
Et quand elle se promène
Tout au long de ses quais
Avec sa belle robe verte
Et ses lumières dorées
Notre-Dame jalouse,
Immobile et sévère
Du haut de toutes ses pierres
La regarde de travers
Mais la Seine s’en balance
Elle n’a pas de souci
Elle se la coule douce
Le jour comme la nuit
Et s’en va vers le Havre
Et s’en va vers la mer
En passant comme un rêve
Au milieu des mystères
Des misères de Paris.

* * * * * * *

Jacques Prevert

Jacques Prevert

Cântecul Senei
Jacques PRÉVERT

(1900 – 1977)

Ce noroc are Sena
Fiind lispită de griji
Şi se duce la vale,
Fără zor, zi de zi,
Când din munţi izvoreşte
Liniştită, tiptil…
Fiindu-i grije să fie
Între maluri curgând,
Să ajungă la mare,
Prin Paris străbătând.

Ce noroc are Sena
Că-i ferită de griji
Iar când trece agale
Străbătând capitala
Elegantă şi pală
În mantaua-i de aur,
Catedrala geloasă
Cu ţinuta-i severă
Tot de sus o priveşte
Din al cerului fleşă.

Insă ei nu ii pasă
Că-i lipsită de griji
Când se duce la vale
Fără zor, zi de zi.
Ea se-ndreaptă spre Hâvre
La ocean ajungând
Pe al visului cale
Într-un val de mister
Şi-a Parisului jale.

(Rendered in Romanian by Constantin ROMAN
© 2013 Copyright Constantin ROMAN)

* * * * * * *

Jacques Prevert

Jacques Prevert

SHORT BIO NOTE:
Jacques Prévert was a French poet and screenwriter. His poems became and remain very popular in the French-speaking world, particularly in schools. Some of the movies he wrote are extremely well regarded, with Les Enfants du Paradis considered one of the greatest films of all time. Prévert participated actively in the Surrealist movement. Together with the writer Raymond Queneau and artist Marcel Duchamp, he was a member of the Rue du Château group. His poems are often about life in Paris and life after the Second World War. They are widely taught in schools in France and frequently appear in French language textbooks throughout the world.

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Poetry in Translation (CLXXXIII: Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986), Argentina, Poet: “Noi suntem Epoca, Noi suntem Legenda”, “We are the time. We are the famous”, “SON LOS RÍOS”

April 14th, 2013 · International Media, Poetry, quotations, Translations, Uncategorized

Poetry in Translation (CLXXXIII: Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986), Argentina, Poet: “Noi suntem Epoca, Noi suntem Legenda”, “We are the time. We are the famous”

Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 - 1986)

Jorge Luis BORGES
(1899 – 1986)

We are the time. We are the famous
by Jorge Luis Borges

We are the time. We are the famous
metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure.

We are the water, not the hard diamond,
the one that is lost, not the one that stands still.

We are the river and we are that greek
that looks himself into the river. His reflection
changes into the waters of the changing mirror,
into the crystal that changes like the fire.

We are the vain predetermined river,
in his travel to his sea.

The shadows have surrounded him.
Everything said goodbye to us, everything goes away.

Memory does not stamp his own coin.

However, there is something that stays
however, there is something that bemoans.

grrek coin 2

Noi suntem Epoca, Noi suntem Legenda
Jorge Luis Borges
(1899 – 1986)

Noi suntem Epoca. Noi suntem Legendara
Metaforă a lui Heraclit cel Obscur.

Noi suntem unda, nu piatra nestemată,
Cea trecătoare, nu cea de sine-stătătoare.

Noi suntem apa şi chipul antic
Al profilului grec, ce se reflectă în undă. Faţa
Lui se transformă în apele oglinzii schimbătoare
A pietrei nestemate sclipind ca flacăra.

Noi suntem fluviul inutil, preprogramat,
În drumul lui spre ocean.

Umbrele l-au cernit.
Totul şi-a luat rămas bun dela noi, totul se îndepărtează.

Memoria nu- şi pune stigmatul pe propria-i pecete.

Şi totuşi, este ceva ce rămâne
Şi totuşi, este ceva ce mâhneşte.

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* * * * * * * *

SON LOS RÍOS
Jorge Luis BORGES (1899 – 1986)

Somos el tiempo. Somos la famosa
parábola de Heráclito el Oscuro.
Somos el agua, no el diamante duro,
la que se pierde, no la que reposa.

Somos el río y somos aquel griego
que se mira en el río. Su reflejo
cambia en el agua del cambiante espejo,
en el cristal que cambia como el fuego.

Somos el vano río prefijado,
rumbo a su mar. La sombra lo ha cercado.
Todo nos dijo adiós, todo se aleja.

La memoria no acuña su moneda.
Y sin embargo hay algo que se queda

* * * * * * * * * * *
Nota Bene: the Editor is grateful to Sr el Don Ray Escámez Rivero, Madrid, for graciously providing the above verse in Spanish
y sin embargo hay algo que se queja.
Borges book cover

SHORT BIO NOTE:
Jorge Luis Borges

I lived from 1899-1986. I was from Argentina, and am in the Americas category.
Argentine poet, essayist, and short-story writer whose tales of fantasy and dreamworlds are classics of the 20th-century world literature. Borges was profoundly influenced by European culture, English literature, and such thinkers as Berkeley, who argued that there is no material substance; the sensible world consists only of ideas, which exists for so long as they are perceived. Most of Borges’s tales embrace universal themes – the often recurring circular labyrinth can be seen as a metaphor of life or a riddle which theme is time. Although his name was mentioned in speculations about Nobel Prize, Borges never became a Nobel Laureate.

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