May 27, 2017
May 26, 2017
May 23, 2017
GƯƠNG TRONG MÌNH LẠI SOI MÌNH
Lúa Thủ Thiêm ngọn chìm ngọn nổi,
Gió xa lộ lúc thổi lúc ngừng,
Gặp nhau tay bắt mặt mừng,
Vui thì vui vậy, biết chừng nào xa.
Nguyễn Đình Toàn
(1984)
Đỉnh trời vằng vặc gương nga,
Long lanh soi tỏ lòng ta lòng mình,
Gương trong mình lại soi mình,
Thấy tình thăm thẳm, thấy hình phù du.
Nẻo đời gió bụi kỳ khu,
Biết ai còn mất tình thu võ vàng.
Doãn Quốc Sỹ
(1980)
HOW TO PLAY THE SOUND OF TIME
Maya and Zayn are definitely young enough to hear home.
[...]The adults were talking when he reentered the kitchen and said, "The sound of time. What happened to it?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know," he said, waiving his tiny hand about, "the sound of time."
It took time - about five frustrating minutes - to figure out what he was getting at. Our refrigerator was being repaired, so the kitchen lacked its omnipresent, nearly imperceptible buzzing sound. He spent virtually all his home life within reach of that sound, and so had come to associate it with life happening.
I love his misunderstanding, because it wasn't a misunderstanding.
My grandfather heard the cries of his dead brothers. That was the sound of his time.
My father heard attacks.
Julia heard the boys' voices.
I heard silences.
Sam heard betrayals and the sounds of Apple products turing on.
Max heard Argus's whining.
Benjy was the only one still young enough to hear home.
[...]
"Here I Am", Jonathan Safran Foer
May 20, 2017
CHO VÀ NHẬN
Thầy chẳng cho gì ngoài ánh mắt,
Lúc muộn phiền con chỉ thấy mây bay.
Thầy chẳng cho gì ngoài giọng nói,
Đượm tình người thành phấn trắng trên tay.
Khi thầy cho thầy cũng không hề biết,
Con vô tình đón nhận cũng không hay.
Nhưng con biết thầy đã cho hết,
Bởi lòng con bát ngát núi sông này.
Bùi Đăng Khuê 
May 18, 2017
May 15, 2017
May 14, 2017
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!
Mẹ là số một trong nhà!
Muôn năm mẹ, muôn năm, muôn năm!
Diễn viên Maya
Đồng diễn viên Zayn
May 13, 2017
MỪNG NGÀY LỄ MẸ
Tình mẹ luôn bao la!
Mẹ không chỉ tha con mình đi tản bộ
Mà còn cõng "con nhà người" ra lộ chơi :)
Photo source: Internet
May 7, 2017
EACH A SOURCE OF PRIDE AND SHAME
[...]
Julia liked the eye being led where the body can't go. She liked irregular brickwork, when on can't tell if the craftsmanship is careless or masterly. She liked the feeling of enclosure, with the suggestion of expansiveness. She like it when the view wasn't centered in the window, but also liked remembering that views are, by nature's nature, centered. She liked doorknobs that one wants to keep holding. She like steps up, and steps down.
[...]
She liked textures that the fingers and feet know, even if the eye doesn't. She like fireplaces centered in kitchens centered on the main living floor. She liked more bookshelves than are necessary. She liked skylights over showers, but no where else. She liked intentional imperfections, but she couldn't bear nonchalance, but she also liked to remember that there could be no such thing as an intentional imperfection. People are always mistaking something that looks good for something that feels good.
She didn't like uniform textures - they aren't how things are. She didn't like rugs centered in rooms. Good architecture should make one feel as if one is in a cave with a view of the horizon.
[...]
She never wanted to become an architect, but she always wanted to make a home for herself. She disposed of the dolls to free the boxes they came in. She spent a summer furnishing the space under her bed. Her clothes covered every surface in her room, because closets shouldn't be wasted with utility. It wasn't until she started designing homes for herself - all on paper, each a source of pride and shame - that she came to understand what was meant by "herself."
"This is so great," Jacob said while being led through a floor plan. Julia never shared her personal work with him unless he explicitly asked. It wasn't a secret, but the experience of sharing always seemed to leave her feeling humiliated. He was never enthusiastic enough, or not in the right ways.
[...]
"It's great," he said, so close his nose almost touched the two-dimentional rendering of her fantasy. "Amazing actually. How do you think of these things?"
"I'm not sure I do think of them."
"This is what, an interior garden?"
"Yeah, the stairs will rise around a light shaft."
"Sam would say, 'Shaft ...'"
"And you would laugh, and I would ignore it."
"Or we both ignore it. Anyway, this is really, really nice."
"Thank you."
Jacob touched his finer to the floor plan, moved it through a series of rooms, always through the doors. "I know I'm no good at reading these things, but where would the kids sleep?"
"Here I am", Johathan Sarfan Foer
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