Literaturism Calatorii printre carti

Inca nu e gata Odiseea (pentru ca am fost cam ocupat), dar pina una alta, am hotarit sa ma joc si eu de-a pds-ul.

They are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens,

And along the trampled edges of the street

I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids

Sprouting despondently at area gates.

The brown waves of fog toss up to me

Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,

And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts

An aimless smile that hovers in the air

And vanishes along the level of the roofs.

T.S. Eliot - Morning at the Window