Translating verticality

I am Vertical   by Sylvia Plath   Es stāvu uz augšu But I would rather be horizontal. Bet ļoti gribas būt šķērsām. I am not a tree with my root in the soil Es neesmu koks, kas izlaidis saknes Sucking up minerals and motherly love Iesūc vielas un mātišķu mīlestību, So that each March […]

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sometimes post

dear diary,  i know you are not my real diary, because i have no diary, only a scrapbook, and nobody addresses a scrapbook with ‘dear scrapbook’. well, i am rambling. and using my poetic licence to write imaginary things as i imagine them. so, dear diary… sometimes life tastes of dry leaves and burnt cabbage. […]

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