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āĻ°āĻŦāĻŋāĻŦāĻžāĻ°, ā§Ļā§Ž āĻ¸ā§‡āĻĒā§āĻŸā§‡āĻŽā§āĻŦāĻ° ā§¨ā§Ļā§¨ā§Ē, ā§Ļā§Ģ:ā§Ļā§Ŧ āĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŦāĻžāĻšā§āĻ¨

🇷🇴Camelia Vlasceanu is a Romanian poet and novelist🇷🇴

Md Sadiqur Rahman Rumen
  • āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ•āĻžāĻļāĻŋāĻ¤: āĻŦā§ƒāĻšāĻ¸ā§āĻĒāĻ¤āĻŋāĻŦāĻžāĻ°, ā§¨ā§¯ āĻĢā§‡āĻŦā§āĻ°ā§āĻ¯āĻŧāĻžāĻ°ā§€, ā§¨ā§Ļā§¨ā§Ē
  • ā§­ā§Ēā§¨ āĻŦāĻžāĻ° āĻĒā§œāĻž āĻšā§Ÿā§‡āĻ›ā§‡

POET.Camelia Vlasceanu

Some excerpts from the first page of Camelia Vlăceanu’s novel Eve’s Diary (Review) and a recent poem written by the poet:

REVIEW

“The diary of an Eve” contains testimonies from various periods of the life of a woman who loves with body and soul, without taking into account social considerations or consequences. Her love is total, mixed in some cases with a sense of compassion that makes it difficult for her to get out of a toxic relationship. Only when things degenerate and reach physical violence does Roberta decide that the time has come to put her foot in the door, but the only solution she has is to leave, because the behavioral changes of her life partner are more and more pronounced and dangerous, due to an illness, but also the negative influence of another person (mother) on him.

Roberta picks up her life, meets other men, knows happiness and devotes herself mostly to her daughter, who always looks at her with a mature, amazing understanding.

“Diary of an Eve” is, by definition, the diary of any woman who loves, forgives for a while, but has the strength to get out – before it’s too late – from a relationship that endangers her physical and mental health.

 

Roberta represents a fragment of the author’s soul. It can be you, it can be me, it can be any woman who gives herself on the altar of love.

Congratulations, Camelia!

Review Written By.

ANA VĂCARASU, poet and prose writer,

member of the SOCIETY OF ROMANIAN WRITERS, member of the SOCIETY OF WRITERS WITHOUT BORDERS.

Poem

It snows me with light

 

From the lattice from the sky

I watched with delight

Lighting paths of frost,

The Little Chariot and the Great Chariot.

And from heaven of light

I jumped out the window

Angels sang softly

The ice sparkled on the branch.

How it snows me with light

Over my wandering soul

He doesn’t carry so much guilt anymore

The weak frost of Februar’

And it snows on my soul

From the sky, with a pearl

Caressing the step, in the umblet,

Snowflakes, rising on the way.

ŠCamelia Vlasceanu

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āĻĒā§āĻ¨āĻƒāĻŽā§‚āĻ˛ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧāĻ¨

“āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻ‡āĻ­ā§‡āĻ° āĻĄāĻžāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ°āĻŋ” āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻŽāĻšāĻŋāĻ˛āĻžāĻ° āĻœā§€āĻŦāĻ¨ā§‡āĻ° āĻŦāĻŋāĻ­āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āĻ¨ āĻ¸āĻŽāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻžāĻ•ā§āĻˇā§āĻ¯ āĻ§āĻžāĻ°āĻŖ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¯āĻžāĻ°āĻž āĻ¸āĻžāĻŽāĻžāĻœāĻŋāĻ• āĻŦāĻŋāĻŦā§‡āĻšāĻ¨āĻž āĻŦāĻž āĻĒāĻ°āĻŋāĻŖāĻ¤āĻŋ āĻŦāĻŋāĻŦā§‡āĻšāĻ¨āĻž āĻ¨āĻž āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡āĻ‡ āĻļāĻ°ā§€āĻ° āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻ†āĻ¤ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ¸āĻžāĻĨā§‡ āĻĒā§āĻ°ā§‡āĻŽ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡āĨ¤ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻ­āĻžāĻ˛āĻŦāĻžāĻ¸āĻž āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŖ, āĻ•āĻŋāĻ›ā§ āĻ•ā§āĻˇā§‡āĻ¤ā§āĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¸āĻŽāĻŦā§‡āĻĻāĻ¨āĻž āĻŦā§‹āĻ§ā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻžāĻĨā§‡ āĻŽāĻŋāĻļā§āĻ°āĻŋāĻ¤ āĻ¯āĻž āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻŦāĻŋāĻˇāĻžāĻ•ā§āĻ¤ āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻ• āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦā§‡āĻ°āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡ āĻ†āĻ¸āĻž āĻ•āĻ āĻŋāĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¤ā§‹āĻ˛ā§‡āĨ¤ āĻļā§āĻ§ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻ¤ā§āĻ° āĻ¯āĻ–āĻ¨ āĻœāĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋāĻ¸āĻ—ā§āĻ˛āĻŋ āĻ…āĻ§āĻƒāĻĒāĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¤ āĻšāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻļāĻžāĻ°ā§€āĻ°āĻŋāĻ• āĻ¸āĻšāĻŋāĻ‚āĻ¸āĻ¤āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻĒā§ŒāĻāĻ›āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻ¤āĻ–āĻ¨āĻ‡ āĻ°āĻŦāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻŸāĻž āĻ¸āĻŋāĻĻā§āĻ§āĻžāĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ āĻ¨ā§‡āĻ¯āĻŧ āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻĻāĻ°āĻœāĻžāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻĒāĻž āĻ°āĻžāĻ–āĻžāĻ° āĻ¸āĻŽāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻāĻ¸ā§‡āĻ›ā§‡, āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ā§ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŽāĻžāĻ¤ā§āĻ° āĻ¸āĻŽāĻžāĻ§āĻžāĻ¨ āĻšāĻ˛ āĻšāĻ˛ā§‡ āĻ¯āĻžāĻ“āĻ¯āĻŧāĻž, āĻ•āĻžāĻ°āĻŖ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻœā§€āĻŦāĻ¨ āĻ¸āĻ™ā§āĻ—ā§€āĻ° āĻ†āĻšāĻ°āĻŖāĻ—āĻ¤ āĻĒāĻ°āĻŋāĻŦāĻ°ā§āĻ¤āĻ¨āĻ—ā§āĻ˛āĻŋ āĻ†āĻ°āĻ“ āĻŦā§‡āĻļāĻŋ āĻ¸ā§āĻĒāĻˇā§āĻŸ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĒāĻœā§āĻœāĻ¨āĻ•, āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻ…āĻ¸ā§āĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻ•āĻžāĻ°āĻŖā§‡, āĻ¤āĻŦā§‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻ‰āĻĒāĻ° āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻŦā§āĻ¯āĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ° (āĻŽāĻž) āĻ¨ā§‡āĻ¤āĻŋāĻŦāĻžāĻšāĻ• āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ­āĻžāĻŦāĻ“ āĻ°āĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ›ā§‡āĨ¤

āĻ°āĻŦāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻŸāĻž āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻœā§€āĻŦāĻ¨āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦā§‡āĻ›ā§‡ āĻ¨ā§‡āĻ¯āĻŧ, āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻĒā§āĻ°ā§āĻˇāĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻžāĻĨā§‡ āĻĻā§‡āĻ–āĻž āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡, āĻ¸ā§āĻ– āĻœāĻžāĻ¨ā§‡ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻ¨āĻŋāĻœā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦā§‡āĻļāĻŋāĻ°āĻ­āĻžāĻ—āĻ‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻŽā§‡āĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ° āĻ•āĻžāĻ›ā§‡ āĻ‰ā§ŽāĻ¸āĻ°ā§āĻ— āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡, āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻ¸āĻŦāĻ¸āĻŽāĻ¯āĻŧ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ•ā§‡ āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻĒāĻ°āĻŋāĻĒāĻ•ā§āĻ•, āĻ†āĻļā§āĻšāĻ°ā§āĻ¯āĻœāĻ¨āĻ• āĻŦā§‹āĻāĻžāĻ° āĻ¸āĻžāĻĨā§‡ āĻĻā§‡āĻ–ā§‡āĨ¤

“āĻĄāĻžāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ°āĻŋ āĻ…āĻĢ āĻ…ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻ¨ āĻ‡āĻ­” āĻšāĻ˛, āĻ¸āĻ‚āĻœā§āĻžāĻž āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āĻ¸āĻžāĻ°ā§‡, āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻ•ā§‹āĻ¨āĻ“ āĻŽāĻšāĻŋāĻ˛āĻžāĻ° āĻĄāĻžāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ°āĻŋ āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻĒā§āĻ°ā§‡āĻŽ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡, āĻ•āĻŋāĻ›ā§āĻ•ā§āĻˇāĻŖā§‡āĻ° āĻœāĻ¨ā§āĻ¯ āĻ•ā§āĻˇāĻŽāĻž āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡, āĻ¤āĻŦā§‡ āĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻļāĻžāĻ°ā§€āĻ°āĻŋāĻ• āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨āĻ¸āĻŋāĻ• āĻ¸ā§āĻŦāĻžāĻ¸ā§āĻĨā§āĻ¯āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĒāĻ¨ā§āĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡ āĻāĻŽāĻ¨ āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻ• āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ – āĻ–ā§āĻŦ āĻĻā§‡āĻ°āĻŋ āĻšāĻ“āĻ¯āĻŧāĻžāĻ° āĻ†āĻ—ā§‡āĻ‡ – āĻŦā§‡āĻ°āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡ āĻ†āĻ¸āĻžāĻ° āĻļāĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻŋ āĻ°āĻ¯āĻŧā§‡āĻ›ā§‡āĨ¤

āĻ°āĻŦāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻŸāĻž āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ–āĻ•ā§‡āĻ° āĻ†āĻ¤ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻ…āĻ‚āĻļāĻ•ā§‡ āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ¤āĻŋāĻ¨āĻŋāĻ§āĻŋāĻ¤ā§āĻŦ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡āĨ¤ āĻāĻŸāĻž āĻ†āĻĒāĻ¨āĻŋ āĻšāĻ¤ā§‡ āĻĒāĻžāĻ°ā§‡, āĻāĻŸāĻž āĻ†āĻŽāĻŋ āĻšāĻ¤ā§‡ āĻĒāĻžāĻ°ā§‡, āĻāĻŸāĻž āĻĒā§āĻ°ā§‡āĻŽā§‡āĻ° āĻŦā§‡āĻĻā§€āĻ¤ā§‡ āĻ¨āĻŋāĻœā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ˛āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡ āĻ¯ā§‡ āĻ•ā§‹āĻ¨ā§‹ āĻ¨āĻžāĻ°ā§€ āĻšāĻ¤ā§‡ āĻĒāĻžāĻ°ā§‡.

āĻ…āĻ­āĻŋāĻ¨āĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻ¨, āĻ•ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻŽā§‡āĻ˛āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧāĻž!

āĻ°āĻŋāĻ­āĻŋāĻ‰ āĻ˛āĻŋāĻ–ā§‡āĻ›ā§‡āĻ¨.

āĻ†āĻ¨āĻž āĻ­ā§‡āĻ•āĻžāĻ°āĻ¸ā§, āĻ•āĻŦāĻŋ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻ—āĻĻā§āĻ¯ āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ–āĻ•,

āĻ°ā§‹āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧāĻžāĻ¨ āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ–āĻ•āĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻŽāĻžāĻœā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻĻāĻ¸ā§āĻ¯, āĻ¸ā§€āĻŽāĻžāĻ¨āĻž āĻ›āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ–āĻ•āĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻŽāĻžāĻœā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻĻāĻ¸ā§āĻ¯ā§ˇ

āĻ•āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¤āĻž:

āĻāĻŸāĻž āĻ†āĻŽāĻžāĻ•ā§‡ āĻ†āĻ˛ā§‹ āĻ¸āĻ™ā§āĻ—ā§‡ āĻ¤ā§āĻˇāĻžāĻ°āĻĒāĻžāĻ¤

āĻ†āĻ•āĻžāĻļ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡ āĻœāĻžāĻ˛āĻŋ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡

 āĻ†āĻŽāĻŋ āĻ†āĻ¨āĻ¨ā§āĻĻā§‡āĻ° āĻ¸āĻžāĻĨā§‡ āĻĻā§‡āĻ–āĻ˛āĻžāĻŽ

 āĻšāĻŋāĻŽā§‡āĻ° āĻ†āĻ˛ā§‹āĻ° āĻĒāĻĨ,

 āĻ›ā§‹āĻŸ āĻ°āĻĨ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻŽāĻšāĻžāĻ¨ āĻ°āĻĨāĨ¤

 āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻ†āĻ˛ā§‹āĻ° āĻ¸ā§āĻŦāĻ°ā§āĻ— āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡

 āĻ†āĻŽāĻŋ āĻœāĻžāĻ¨āĻžāĻ˛āĻž āĻĻāĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧā§‡ āĻ˛āĻžāĻĢ āĻĻāĻŋāĻ˛āĻžāĻŽ

 āĻĻā§‡āĻŦāĻĻā§‚āĻ¤ āĻŽā§ƒāĻĻā§ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ āĻ—āĻžāĻ‡āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ¨

 āĻĄāĻžāĻ˛ā§‡ āĻŦāĻ°āĻĢ āĻšāĻ•āĻšāĻ• āĻ•āĻ°āĻ›ā§‡āĨ¤

 āĻāĻŸāĻž āĻ•āĻŋāĻ­āĻžāĻŦā§‡ āĻ†āĻ˛ā§‹ āĻ¸āĻ™ā§āĻ—ā§‡ āĻ†āĻŽāĻžāĻ•ā§‡ āĻ¤ā§āĻˇāĻžāĻ°āĻĒāĻžāĻ¤

 āĻ†āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻŦāĻŋāĻšāĻ°āĻŖāĻ•āĻžāĻ°ā§€ āĻ†āĻ¤ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ‰āĻĒāĻ°

 āĻāĻ¤āĻŸāĻž āĻ…āĻĒāĻ°āĻžāĻ§ āĻ¸ā§‡ āĻ†āĻ° āĻŦāĻšāĻ¨ āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡ āĻ¨āĻž

 āĻĢā§‡āĻŦā§āĻ°ā§āĻ¯āĻŧāĻžāĻ°āĻŋāĻ° āĻĻā§āĻ°ā§āĻŦāĻ˛ āĻšāĻŋāĻŽ

āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻāĻŸāĻž āĻ†āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ†āĻ¤ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻ° āĻ‰āĻĒāĻ° āĻ¤ā§āĻˇāĻžāĻ°āĻĒāĻžāĻ¤

 āĻ†āĻ•āĻžāĻļ āĻĨā§‡āĻ•ā§‡, āĻāĻ•āĻŸāĻŋ āĻŽā§āĻ•ā§āĻ¤āĻž āĻ¸āĻ™ā§āĻ—ā§‡

 āĻ•āĻĻāĻŽ āĻ†āĻĻāĻ° āĻ•āĻ°ā§‡, āĻ›āĻžāĻ¤āĻžāĻ° āĻŽāĻ§ā§āĻ¯ā§‡,

 āĻ¸ā§āĻ¨ā§‹āĻĢā§āĻ˛ā§‡āĻ•ā§āĻ¸, āĻĒāĻĨā§‡ āĻ‰āĻ āĻ›ā§‡āĨ¤

ŠāĻ•ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻŽā§‡āĻ˛āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧāĻž āĻ­ā§āĻ˛āĻžāĻ¸ā§‡āĻ¨ā§

āĻ•āĻŦāĻŋ: āĻ•ā§āĻ¯āĻžāĻŽā§‡āĻ˛āĻŋāĻ¯āĻŧāĻž āĻ­ā§āĻ˛āĻžāĻ¸ā§‡āĻ¨ā§‚

 

 

āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻžāĻĻāĻ¨āĻž āĻ“ āĻĒā§āĻ°āĻ•āĻžāĻļāĻ¨āĻžāĻ¯āĻŧ:

āĻŽā§‹āĻƒ āĻ¸āĻžāĻĻāĻŋāĻ•ā§āĻ° āĻ°āĻšāĻŽāĻžāĻ¨ āĻ°ā§āĻŽā§‡āĻ¨

āĻ•āĻŦāĻŋ āĻ“ āĻ¸āĻŽā§āĻĒāĻžāĻĻāĻ• āĻ•āĻ˛āĻŽā§‡āĻ° āĻ•āĻžāĻ°ā§āĻ•āĻžāĻœ

Edite And Published By.

Md Sadiqur Rahman Rumen, poet And Editors Pen Craft, Bangladesh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

āĻ¸āĻ‚āĻŦāĻžāĻĻāĻŸāĻŋ āĻļā§‡ā§ŸāĻžāĻ° āĻ•āĻ°ā§āĻ¨

2 thoughts on "🇷🇴Camelia Vlasceanu is a Romanian poet and novelist🇷🇴"

  1. Ana Văcărașu says:

    Felicitări, Camelia!

  2. Camelia Vlasceanu says:

    All respect for your publisher! Thanks to Mr. Sadiqur Rahman Rumen for the opportunity!Thanks to whole Bangladesh!
    With much respect,
    Camelia Vlăsceanu

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