#aretusa

[valentina-lauricella]

L'Alfeo ed Aretusa

Poiché già dietro vistosi Di Pisa il suolo ameno, L'Alfeo scorrendo turgido, Entrò del mare in seno; E fiori, e sacra polvere In don recando, e fronde, Trova Aretusa, e mescola Con Aretusa l'onde. Poi d'alte grotte concave Cheto bagnando il piede, Passa; nè il grande Oceano Del suo passar si avvede. Così, perito artefice, Fa degli amanti il Nume Che per amore, impavido Nuoti nel mare un fiume.

(Idillio di Mosco, traduzione di G. Leopardi)

#alfeo #aretusa #artemide #siracusa #mosco #leopardi

[dueminuti]

#2minuti #musica #siracusa #salvo fruciano #canto #arte #ciltura #società #aretusa #sicilia #giornalista #rai

[dimensionesogno]

L'ERBA DEL VICINO

Adorabile è il gioco degli specchi in cui l’adorata si pone da sola e al centro di se stessa. Il Cantico lo dice a chiare note: come mite gazzella porta le labbra procaci e i seni intonsi nel verde pascolo dove nulla è mancante se tu sei con me. Anche se non ci sei, nulla è mancante perché io ti penso. Il narcisismo è una caratteristica maschile. Nessuna donna va alla conquista di se…

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#Ades #aretusa #bellezza #cantico #Ciane #Eco #erba #evviva #femmina #gioco #Keynes #mascio #narcisismo #Narciso #Orfeo #pascolo #poesia #Sava #Smith #vicino

[elgallinero]

Practice English

Follow in the footsteps of the on-screen adventurer with a walking tour of architecture and archaeology in Sicily’s southeast city, uncovering set locations from the latest film. — Read on www.nationalgeographic.com/travel/article/indiana-jones-archaelogy-walking-tour-of-syracuse-sicily

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#Chiesa San Paolo Apostolo #English as a Second Language #ESL #Fontana di Diana #Fonte Aretusa #practice English #Syracuse #Temple of Apollo

[jornalgrandeabc]

Meu jardim de beija flores

Em casa plantei muitas flores, que estão crescendo, para atraí-los. As preferidas são as vermelhas. O quintal é grande, alguns tipos ... #fotografia #abcclick #fotoclube #grandeabc #jornalgrandeabc #natureza #jardim

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#13 anos abcclick #abc #abcclick #abcclick fotoclube #abcclik #angela horokosky #aniversário #Aretusa Sousa #beija flor #beija-flor #clelgen #clelgen & norma #como fotografar em macro #como fotografar pássaros #concurso #exposicao #exposicoes #ezequiel junior #foto clube #fotoclube #fotografar beija flor #fotografar beija-flor #fotos de paisagem #fotos jardim #grande abc #jardim #jardinagem #jardins #macro fotografia #magá bastos

[dapandapod]

Half awake thoughts about transmasc Jask.

Because

Maybe he leaves Lettenhove in skirts and long hair, with a chaperone he has had since childhood. 

And one evening he breaks down crying to her, finally daring to express his feelings about being a man. And she holds him and soothes him and lets him know he is safe with her. 

And after that, she starts investigating how to help. She finds fashion that is more androgynous, she cuts his hair short, she speak of him as her young lord when he says he feels good enough to do all of this in public. 

His parents send him angry letters, which she takes from his hands and burns when his tears start falling. 

When Jaskier finds his first true friend, she is there, supporting him.

Eventually, in his second year of school, they meet Valdo. The man is an absolute arse and a delight, because as much as they seem to hate each other, he challenges Jaskier to evolve, to get better, surer in his identity and his way of performing. Not once does he question Jaskier being a man, not once does he mention the occasional dress, but his lack of fashion sense, poor taste in ale and lovers, his playing.

But it isn’t until he meets the mage from Aretusa, the one who bespells the sorceresses' bodies when they graduate, that he starts to enjoy singing properly. 

Jaskier pays the mage every penny he has to have his body changed to fit who he is, and only later does he learn his maid added what coin she had.

This is when singing becomes his life. He performs at the local taverns to earn his keep, to keep his hand maid protected, and she smiles, and cups his cheek, and calls him her Julian.

And when he leaves Oxenfurt to become a traveling bard, he always sends money home to her, returns to her as often as he can to support her as she supported him. 

And to slander Valdo, because that bitch is still bitching.

And when he finally meets Geralt and they become comfortable enough to be friends, to talk about things, Geralt points at Jaskier’s chest and wonders who hurt him. 

“These scars are not from hurting, my friend, but from healing.”

And then they fall in love and live happily ever after. Yes.

#trans!jaskier #the witcher #jaskier the bard #her little julek #yes i am getting emotional over this #valdo the best frenemy #headcanon #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #dapanda writes #ish #close enough

[kon-igi]

QUEL POST CON CUI EMPATIZZERANNO IN TRE (ME COMPRESO) Parte 1

Non è una storia triste, non ci sono plot twist né morali strazianti per cui togliete pure il secchio da sotto la sedia ché i testicoli rimarranno al loro posto (figura retorica gender-inclusiva).

L’altro giorno @der-papero ha rebloggato un mio post in cui c’era l’immagine di una mazza ferrata per ‘resettare’ un pc dicendo ‘Non fare male ai computer che sono stati i miei unici amici per tanti anni! (o qualcosa del genere) ed è a quel punto che io ho pensato la stessa cosa, anche se in modo più specifico e meno informatico del suo.

Dal 1979 a oggi ci sono stati degli ‘amici’ che sono diventati una sorta di pietra miliare temporale a cui posso tornare con la memoria in modo microscopico e con una precisione quasi eidetica, al punto che li posso usare come una personalissima radiodatazione al carbonio per conoscere gli eventi contestuali occorsi in un dato periodo.

Quando ero piccolo ho sempre creduto che tutti giocassero ai videogames, sia con la propria console a casa che nei bar o nelle sale giochi e invece ho lentamente scoperto che non solo quasi nessuno aveva un console per videogames a casa ma che anche i cabinati che erano nelle sale giochi o nei bar per molti non erano affatto un’attrattiva.

Beh... per il sottoscritto le cose andavano in modo molto differente.

Alle console che ho posseduto dedicherò la seconda parte di questo post ma ora vi dico che sul viale pedonale principale di Viareggio (quello del carnevale, per intenderci) c’erano due sale giochi ENORMI (posso confermarlo a distanza di anni che non era solo lo sguardo di bimbo) e mio nonno paterno lavorava li vicino, ragion per cui mi bastava mendicargli mille o duemila lire, cambiare tutto in monete da 200 lire (i gettoni dovevano ancora arrivare) e giocare come se non ci fosse un domani.

Io non so se la seguente descrizione possa avere un senso per la maggior parte di voi ma dovete considerare quanto fosse ENORME il trip sinestesico nell’entrare in uno di quei luoghi: prima di tutto passavi dalla luce del sole a una penombra che assomigliava molto a un buio luminoso, poi le tue orecchie venivano sopraffatte da parecchi decibel di musichette a 8 bit che si mescolavano a formare un meraviglioso cachinno eustordente e infine l’odore di sigaretta che permeava ogni centimetro cubo dell’ambiente con una coltre di fumo in cui lampeggiavano gli schermi dei cabinati come finestre su altri mondi.

(in effetti a posteriori posso capire perché la mia passione non fosse così condivisa)

Ho parlato del 1979 perché quello fu l’anno in cui da flipper, biliardini e altri giochi analogici (che io schifavo) si passò al primo videogame completamente elettronico a grafica vettoriale: ASTEROIDS.

Ora, siccome sono ben consapevole che la maggior parte di voi non ha la minima idea di cosa io stia parlando, sappiate che quando parlavo di finestre su altri mondi era proprio quella la sensazione che allora si provava: dalla visione passiva di un programma televisivo su tubo catodico passavi a poter FARE COSE SULLO SCHERMO, un qualcosa che pochi fra voi possono capire quanto fosse pazzesco.

E quello per me segnò un altro modo di considerare lo scorrere del tempo.

Per esempio, nell’Agosto del 1983 giocai per quindici giorni a Moon Patrol nel piccolo bar dell’Isola del Giglio dove andai in vacanza coi miei genitori 

mentre al Bar Sombrero del mio quartiere nell’inverno del 1984 a Mag Max e Kung Fu Master, quest’ultimo a scrocco perché avevo imparato come accedere al sensore che veniva toccato dalla monetina e dava 1 credito

la stessa estate, nella sala giochi in pineta, scoprii e finii Bubble Bobble (l’intro musicale mi dà ancora i brividi) mentre il Juke Box mandava in loop una canzone che dopo ho scoperto essere Sweet Dreams degli Eurythmics. 

Trojan nel bar Moreno sotto a una tenda minuscola, R Type al chiosco sul viale dei tigli, Tiger Road al bagno Aretusa, Circus Charlie nel bar della stazione vecchia vicino al biliardo dal panno verde consumato e segnato dalle sigarette, Knuckle Joe in un hotel in Val d’Aosta per la gita di terza media, Wiz nel bar vicino casa di mia nonna materna, Bomb Jack al maneggio dove Diego con 200 lire giocava tutto il giorno e regalava crediti, Bank Panic al bar del cinema all’aperto e New Zeland Story in quello del palazzetto dello sport mentre mangiavo un Paciugo all’amarena, prima Green Beret e poi Iron Horse nella pasticceria sotto casa di mia nonna paterna con l’odore di sfoglie alla crema, Robocop e Xain’d Sleena al bar del liceo, finiti entrambi a memoria prima che suonasse la campanella, i tornei di Dark Stalker con i miei amici al bar della stazione nuova e poi ancora X-Men e Avengers.

Centinaia di giochi che meriterebbero decine di post perché con mille lire potevo andare in un mondo dove non ero più il ciccione sfigato che non sapeva giocare a pallone... ero quello che poteva sconfiggere i nemici e alla fine vincere, sempre.

L’ultimo arcade cabinato a cui giocai - e poi dopo quella data praticamente scomparvero per essere sostituiti dalle Slot Machine - fu Metal Slug, in data 1997, dopo aver lasciato Figlia Grande all’asilo nido nel piccolo ritaglio di tempo prima di andare nello studio medico dove avevo appena cominciato a lavorare.

Naturalmente lo finii ma finì anche col chiudersi quella parentesi durata appena vent’anni ma lunga una vita intera.

Chi di voi è abbastanza vecchio da capirmi?

@axeman72​? @renatoram​? @ilnonnodiinternet​​? 

[sciatu]

ORTIGIA DI NOTTE

Abbiamo pranzato in un vecchio ristorante di Ortigia. Fino a qualche anno fa vi erano i due fratelli che l’avevano ereditato dal padre. Eravamo in confidenza e quando ci sedevamo a tavola non ci portavano neanche il menù ma una serie di piatti con antipasti tipici di Siracusa. La pasta alla Meggellina o allo scoglio gli spaghetti al nero di Sicci, la frittura, l’arrosto, la stessa cassata con cui si finiva il pranzo, seguivano le stagioni, la disponibilità del momento. Ora il ristorante è uno dei tanti, con piatti belli a vedersi ma insapori, ed un menù che è lo stesso di Milano o Düsseldorf. Siracusa dalla tavola è scomparsa nella ricerca del Glamour, di una supposta eleganza che giustifica un costo non equilibrato con il pranzo servito. Per questo ci avventuriamo nella notte di Origia con la paura di non trovare più la sua anima accogliente ed antica. Ci accolgono i grandi Yacht dalle forme eleganti che sanno di una ricchezza che cerca ancora l’avventura tra le vele di due alberi o nei ponti eleganti di una cattedrale marina. Poi però torna Ortigia, i suoi enormi baobab la fontana di Aretusa, torna nelle feste sulle barche luminose ormeggiate ai lati delle grandi mura o in quella nei balconi luminosi delle antiche case. Ortigia vive il suo mare e vive sé stessa, di giorno e di notte, indifferente ai tanti turisti per cui l’hanno camuffata e popolata di ristoranti, vive nel silenzio che avvolge i suoi balconi, nella luce giallognola dei suoi vicoli, nelle feste dei ragazzi nelle sue oscure spiaggette, nel vento che l’attraversa e nel tempo che non la vince. Nel silenzio della notte e nei pub stracolmi, tra tavolini e barche in cui rimbomba la musica da discoteca, come un’antica signora che l’oblio non potrà mai vincere, Ortigia vive.

We had lunch in an old restaurant in Ortigia. Until a few years ago there were two brothers who had inherited it from their father. We were friend and when we sat down at the table they didn't even bring us the menu but a series of dishes with typical Syracuse appetizers. The Meggellina or scoglio pasta, black Sicci's spaghetti (cutttlefish spaghetti) with black sauce, the fried food, the roast, the same cassata with which we finished lunch, followed the seasons, the availability of the moment. Now the restaurant is one of many, with dishes that are beautiful to look at but tasteless, and a menu that is the same as in Milan or Düsseldorf. Syracuse has disappeared from the table in the search for Glamour, for a supposed elegance that justifies a cost that is not balanced with the lunch served. This is why we venture into the night of Origia with the fear of no longer finding its welcoming and ancient soul. We are welcomed by large yachts with elegant shapes that smell of a richness that still seeks adventure between the sails of two masted ship or in the elegant descks of a marine cathedral. But then Ortigia returns, its enormous baobabs, the fountain of Arethusa, returns to the celebrations on the bright boats moored at the sides of the great walls or in the bright balconies of the ancient houses. Ortigia lives its sea and lives itself, day and night, indifferent to the many tourists for whom they have disguised it and populated it with restaurants, it lives in the silence that envelops its balconies, in the yellowish light of its alleys, in the festivals of teeneger in its dark little beaches, in the wind that crosses it and in the time that does not overcome it. In the silence of the night and in busy pubs, between tables and boats in which disco music booms, like an ancient lady that oblivion can never conquer, Ortigia lives.

#sciatu #sicilia #Ortigia #Siracusa

[ilivemydreamsthere]

Death comes before hope

This is opening of story I will work on now. I need Yennefer and Tissaia story so bad. I need them healing and I need them getting close and I need them to kick Vilgefortz ass.

The story inspired by pic from this talented person thanks again @yennaia1313 😁

--------

The sharp pain she could feel in her wrists made her gasp and go weak in her knees. She barely registered the concerned look of Triss and other sorcerers. No one understands whats happening or not yet.

They had been starting the ceremony for death novices when the pain came out of nowhere. Some way she knows. She and the rectoress of Aretusa had a special bond through the years. Yennefer thought it was special. Even when they didn't talk Tissaia was always able to find her. Sometimes it annoys her, sometimes she felt proud. She felt special. She never admits it to anyone.

"Tissaia " She spoke up and without thinking she used her right hand to conjure a portal. She will deal with the consequences later. She did stumble inside. Realizing later than Triss who screamed behind her what just happened.

The picture who waited on her was painful for her to see. Tissaia de Vries, restorers of Aretusa in blood and on the ground.

The portal opening right behind her belongs to Triss who was able to follow quickly. Their looks meet very shortly before both of them start the incarnation in elder language. Yennefer crawl to Tissaia. Her fingers find her wrists and try to stop the bleeding. She cut in half her own dress and cower wounds quickly. Yennefer didn't realize she was crying until the tears didn't make her own hands wet. She looked at Triss ' eyes for a small moment. " I do feel a pulse but it's so weak " When Yennefer hears it she makes decisions.

"Neneke, could find a way and help me to heal her. '' She said quietly and before Triss could stop her. She get up and leans down to take the smaller woman in her arms.

"You weren't taking control, you were losing it. " She mumbled the words and opened the second portal. Triss could hear it but she didn't understand.

She held the weak but still warm body of rectoress of Aretusa in her arms when she walked through the portal.

#yennaia #yennefer of vengerberg #tissaia de vries #yennefer x tissaia

[gemsofgreece]

Ancient Greece left a mark in myths and literature, but do you know any Byzantine stories that are worth being recognised? Also do you know any stories by modern Greek authors that deserve the same hype as the old ones?

Yes! The issue with Byzantine literature is that too little survives and even less survives in full, which is a result of both the relentless warring and invasions of the Byzantine Empire from west and east alike and the loud indifference regarding the preservation of anything Byzantine for the longest time, as opposed to the mania with Ancient Greek literature.

Regarding Byzantine fiction in specific, which is what I think you are asking, I think three romance novels survive and an epic poetic one. That last one is the trademark of Byzantine literature:

Basil Digenés Akritas (Βασίλειος Διγενής Ακρίτας), 9 - 10th Century

This versed epic novel is the best known amongst the acritic songs. Those poems were about the exploits of the akrites, meaning the soldiers / guards living and protecting the borders of the Byzantine empire. Digenes Akritas was a hero coming from two different bloodlines, as also evident by his epithet "Digenes", his father was a Saracen emir and his mother was of Byzantine Greek noblility in Cappadocia. Digenes has essentially supernatural power - there are herculian parallels - and he is not infallible in his morals - the story narrates his bravery, manliness, exploits and romance(s), and his piety - in a paradoxical combo truly few could master as much as the Byzantines.

Erotókritos (Ερωτόκριτος), 16 - 17th Century

The monumental versed romance of post-Byzantine and very early Modern Greece is this classic of Cretan literature, composed by Vitsentzos Kornaros. Incidentally getting written the same time as Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, I will go fully on record saying it's better than Romeo and Juliet. The reason I make this comparison at all is because the general concept is similar, although it unfolds entirely differently in the process; the forbidden love between two young people and the fierce objection of the parents. And also, because I don't get the fuss around R&J. Anyway, apart from the concept, the story is different, it's a friends to lovers, not enemies to lovers, one is a royal, the other is not, and the main character is , again, a super skilled warrior on top of everything else. The story is also set in a fantastical multi-Greek world: it's officially set in Ancient Athens, but it has Byzantine, Cretan, Greek folk and Frankish elements. The lovestory of Erotokritos and Aretusa remains the ultimate Greek romance and the poem has turned into folk songs that are well known and loved by all of us. The Cretan literature of the time produced more notable works, such as Erophile, which is super morbid and dark as hell, but I don't know much about it yet so I can't recommend it.

As for Modern Greek literature, I am going to state another potentially surprising opinion. I do not consider myself an expert at it, however from the little I've read I like it wayyyy more than Ancient Greek literature, excluding the Homeric epics. Granted, it might have to do with how each can possibly resonate with us but it's also about the prose. This is subjective but I LOVE modern Greek prose and poetry. My mouth always threatens to drool when reading the Skiathitic dialect of Papadiamantis *shrug*.

You didn't ask about poetry but modern Greek poetry is 100% verified drool worthy. I don't know if you know Greek though, certainly translations aren't equal to the real thing. Still, I recommend the poetry of Odysseus Elytis, Giorgos Seferis, Constantine Cavafy, Giannis Ritsos, Nikos Kavvadias, Dionysios Solomos and so many more.

As for prose, I will start as a broken record once more, with the short novel "The Murderess" (Η Φόνισσα) by Alexandros Papadiamantis. You need no more description, that's all.

Here is a list of the 200 best modern Greek novels, as voted by readers. It's in Greek though. I didn't know it, but the Murderess is the most upvoted. I approve.

I will add nine more from this list to make a random Top 10 of classics:

Ματωμένα Χώματα (Bloody Earth) by Dido Sotiriou, 1962

Ένα παιδί μετράει τ' άστρα (A child counts the stars) by Menelaus Loudemis, 1956

Παραμύθι χωρίς όνομα (Fairytale without a name) by Penelope Delta, 1910

Η Μεγάλη Χίμαιρα (The Great Chimaera) by Manolis Karagatsis, 1953

Η Ζωή εν Τάφω (Life in the Grave) by Stratis Myrivilis, 1924

Ο Χριστός ξανασταυρώνεται (Christ, Recrucified) by Nikos Kazantzakis, 1948

Βίος και Πολιτεία του Αλέξη Ζορμπά (Life and Times of Alexis Zorbas) by Nikos Kazantzakis, 1946 (also known as "Zorbas the Greek" abroad...)

Το Τρίτο Στεφάνι (The Third Marriage) by Kostas Tachtsis, 1962

Η Πάπισσα Ιωάννα (Popess Johanna) by Emmanuel Roides, 1866

Το Νούμερο 31328 (Number 31328) by Ilias Venetis, 1931

#greece #literature #books #byzantine literature #modern greek literature #greek culture #recs #erotokritos #the murderess #basil digenes akritas #anon #ask

[furlantravelfashionblogger]

Fontana Aretusa Ortigia, Siracusa - Foto di Tiziana Scriminaci Di Maio

Sicilia 🇮🇹

[nancyfmccarthy]

Siracusa

Siracusa (or Syracuse) was the most important city of Magna Graecia. In 413 BC, it defeated Athens. At the height of its power, it was a city of over 300,000. Cicero called it “the greatest Greek city and the most beautiful of them all. “

He had the beautiful part right. Today we took the one hour train ride from Catania to Siracusa. It was a beautiful place to visit on a beautiful day.

There are two distinct parts of the city. Ortygia is a small island, connected by bridges, which is the heart of the old city. The archeological park is in the northern part of the city. We visited both and neither disappointed.

The Fountain of Diana

The Cathedral, which is now my favorite site in all of Italy and about which I will write a separate post.

The Fountain of Aretusa, which is really interesting. It is a natural, fresh water spring, right beside the salty Mediterranean.

One of many cute streets.

The waterfront.

Now the archeological park. These are the latomie, or stone quarries. Huge building blocks were cut out of these cliffs. The center is now a citrus grove but was an ancient prison…prisoners were the workforce. Access to this local stone was Siracusa’s superpower!

As the stones were removed, huge caves were created. In today’s park, sculptures decorate the walkways and caves. This colossus….

…was in the deepest cave in total darkness. Everyone had their phone flashlights lit! But my phone had no trouble capturing the image in the dark. iPhones are amazing…and so was the colossus!

The Greek theatre is still used today. It has survived because the seats were cut out of the cliff so could not be carried away and reused.

The Roman Amphitheater is less well preserved but still worth a visit. The contests against wild animals ended but the theatre continued to be used for other games until about 400AD

[guardianasdelrpg]

//aquí interesada!! Dejo disc: aretusa#0242 // ¡Gracias! No me aparece tu discord con la almohadilla Aretusa, lo he puesto sin, por si acaso si no te llega mi solicitud, me puedes agregar tu? connor2775 o connor#2775

<3

✶✯╰☆╮ ︻╦̵̵͇̿̿̿̿╤── ☠ ~ JINX ~ ☠

[jonesbrianshining]

Diana Ross with Brian Jones of The Rolling Stones at a Party held by the Duke and Duchess of Bedford in honor of Diana Ross and The Supremes at the Club Dell’ Aretusa in Chelsea, London on January 28, 1968

#Brian #diana ross #the supremes #the rolling stones

[imchesire-dubidubi]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤEl motivo por el que Tissaia creía tanto en ella le era desconocido, después de todo, Yennefer era incapaz de realizar el más simple de los hechizos. No importaba que tanto esfuerzo le pusiera, o que tantas horas de estudio dedicara, no podía hacer que la pequeña roca levitara, ni comunicarse con sus hermanas mentalmente. Lo único que parecía capaz de crear sin siquiera suponerle un esfuerzo eran los portales. Pero, ¿de qué le servía? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPodría huir, aquella había sido su primera opción, pero entonces seguiría viviendo el martirio que significaba ser un semielfo; y no era como que fuese a pasar desapercibida. Su escoliosis y asquerosa apariencia desentonaban de la normalidad humana sin necesitar esfuerzo alguno por su parte. Aquello no sólo significaba ser encontrada por las hechiceras con rapidez, sino que también sufriría las consecuencias de su escape. Definitivamente sólo habían dos salidas posibles de Aretusa, y no había manera de que Yennefer obtuviese a la que todas aspiraban. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDespués de todo, sólo era una mestiza, incapaz de realizar la más sencilla de las actividades humanas de manera correcta, incapaz de realizar hechizo alguno, para lo único que resultaba buena era para rendirse. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤUna lágrima solitaria se escurrió entre sus ojos a la vez que los cerraba por una última vez.

[random-racehorses]

Random Real Thoroughbred: ARETUSA

ARETUSA is a mare born in Argentina in 1944. By ZORZALITO out of AVESTA. Link to their pedigreequery page: https://www.pedigreequery.com/aretusa2

#/aretusa2