About Me
| Name : | Korinna | | Nick Name : | KüñçMaiden | | Birthdate : | Oct 3 1986 | | Birthplace : | Bucuresti | | Current Location : | Bucuresti | | Eye Color : | Green | | Hair Color : | Blonde | | Height : | 157 cm | | Weight : | 43 kg | | FAVORITES | | Food : | Shaorma | | Number : | 3 | | Color : | Violet | | Music Album : | Lasgo-Somethings | | Movie : | Mission to Mars | | This or That | | Pepsi or Coke : | Coke | | Hot Chocolate or Coffee : | Chocolate I don't like cofee | | Dog or Cat : | cat | | Rap or Punk : | None of them | | Summer or Winter : | Summer | | Love or Money : | Love | | YOUR... | | Bedtime : | I won't tell you | | Most Missed Memory : | I don't remember | | Best phyiscal feature : | none | | First Thought Waking Up : | my future | | HAVE YOU... | | Cheated Your Partner : | No | | Ever been beaten up : | no | | Ever beaten someone up : | no | | IN A GUY/GIRL | | Favorite Eye Color : | Blue, green | | Favorite Hair Color : | doesn't matter, hair color can be changed | | Short or Long : | long | | Looks or Personality : | To be like me | | RANDOMS | | Health Freak : | No but I don't destroy myself | | Believe in Yourself : | Yes | | Do you Smoke : | NO!!!!!! NEVER EVER | | Do you Drink : | NO | | Been in Love : | Secret | | Do you Sing : | no | | Take Survey | Create Survey |
| Your Aura is Violet |  Idealistic and thoughtful, you have the mind and ideas to change the world.
And you have the charisma of a great leader, even if you don't always use it!
The purpose of your life: saying truths that other people dare not say
Famous purples include: Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., Susan B. Anthony
Careers for you to try: Political Activist, Inventor, Life Coach |
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Interests
 First of all there is my art but I am interested in paranormal, astronomy, the origins of life, life on Mars, ancient mysteries, pyramid effect, alien life and many others.  | Cool Slideshows! |
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Favorite TV Shows
TVR 1, TVR 2,National Geographic
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Favorite Books
Mihai Eminescu Floare albastra  Floare albastra Iar te-ai cufundat în stele
Si în nori si-n ceruri nalte?
De nu m-ai uita încalte,
Sufletul vietii mele. In zadar râuri de soare
Gramadesti-n a ta gândire
Si câmpiile asire
Si întunecata mare; Piramidele-nvechite
Urca-n cer vârful lor mare –
Nu cata în departare
Fericirea ta, iubite! Astfel zise mititica,
Dulce netezindu-mi parul.
Ah! ea spuse adevarul;
Eu am râs, n-am zis nimica. – Hai în codrul cu verdeata,
Und-izvoare plâng în vale,
Stânca sta sa se pravale
In prapastia mareata. Acolo-n ochi de padure,
Lânga balta cea senina
Si sub trestia cea lina
Vom sedea în foi de mure. Si mi-i spune-atunci povesti
Si minciuni cu-a ta gurita,
Eu pe-un fir de romanita
Voi cerca de ma iubesti. 
Si de-a soarelui caldura
Voi fi rosie ca marul,
Mi-oi desface de-aur parul,
Sa-ti astup cu dânsul gura.
De mi-i da o sarutare,
Nime-n lume n-a s-o stie,
Caci va fi sub palarie –
S-apoi cine treaba are! Când prin crengi s-a fi ivit
Luna-n noaptea cea de vara,
Mi-i tinea de subsuoara,
Te-oi tinea de dupa gât. Pe carare-n bolti de frunze,
Apucând spre sat în vale,
Ne-om da sarutari pe cale,
Dulci ca florile ascunse. Si sosind l-al portii prag,
Vom vorbi-n întunecime;
Grija noastra n-aib-o nime,
Cui ce-i pasa ca-mi esti drag? Inc-o gura – si dispare...
Ca un stâlp eu stam în luna!
Ce frumoasa, ce nebuna
E albastra-mi, dulce floare! ................................................ Si te-ai dus, dulce minune,
S-a murit iubirea noastra –
Floare-albastra! floare-albastra!...
Totusi este trist în lume!
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Favorite Quote
  YGMALION loathing their lascivious Life, Abhorred all Womankind, but most a Wife: So single chose to live, and shunned to wed, Well pleased to want a Consort of his Bed. Yet fearing Idleness, the Nurse of Ill, In Sculpture exercised his happy Skill; And carved in Ivory such a Maid, so fair, As Nature could not with his Art compare, Were she to work; but in her own Defence, Must take her Pattern here, and copy hence. Pleased with his Idol, he commends, admires, Adores; and last, the Thing adored, desires. A very Virgin in her Face was seen, And she had moved, a living Maid had been: One would have thought she could have stirred; but strove With Modesty, and was ashamed to move. Art hid with Art, so well performed the Cheat, It caught the Carver with his own Deceit: He knows 'tis Madness, yet he must adore, And still the more he knows it, loves the more: The Flesh, or what so seems, he touches oft, Which feels so smooth, that he believes it soft. Fired with his Thought, at once he strained the Breast, And on the Lips a burning Kiss impressed. 'Tis true, the hardened Breast resists the Gripe, And the cold Lips return a Kiss unripe: But when, retiring back, he looked again, To think it Ivory, was a thought too mean: So would believe she kissed, and courting more, Again embraced her naked Body o'er; And straining hard the Statue, was afraid His Hands had made a Dint, and hurt his Maid: Explored her, Limb by Limb, and feared to find So rude a Gripe had left a livid Mark behind With Flatt'ry now he seeks her Mind to move, And now with Gifts (the powerful bribe of Love): He furnishes her Closet first; and fills The crowded Shelves with Rarities of Shells; Adds Orient Pearls, which from the Conches he drew, And all the sparkling Stones of various Hue: And Parrots, imitating Human Tongue, And singing-birds in Silver Cages hung; And ev'ry fragrant Flower, and odorous Green, Were sorted well, with Lumps of Amber laid between: Rich, fashionable Robes her person Deck: Pendants her Ears, and Pearls adorn her neck: Her tapered Fingers too With Rings are graced, And an embroidered Zone surrounds her slender Waist. Thus like a Queen arrayed, so richly dressed, Beauteous she shewed, but naked shewed the best. Then, from the Floor, he raised a Royal Bed, With Cov'rings of Sydonian Purple spread: The Solemn Rites performed, he calls her Bride, With Blandishments invites her to his Side, And as she were with Vital Sense possessed, Her Head did on a plumy Pillow rest. The Feast of Venus came, a Solemn Day, To which the Cypriots due Devotion pay; With gilded Horns the milk-white Heifers led, Slaughtered before the sacred Altars, bled: Pygmalion offering, first approached the Shrine, And then with Pray'rs implored the Powers Divine: Almighty Gods, if all we Mortals want, If all we can require, be yours to grant; Make this fair Statue mine, he would have said, But changed his Words for shame; and only prayed, Give me the likeness of my Ivory Maid. The Golden Goddess, present at the Prayer, Well knew he meant th' inanimated Fair, And gave the Sign of granting his Desire; For thrice in cheerful Flames ascends the Fire. The Youth, returning to his Mistress, hies, And, impudent in Hope, with ardent Eyes, And beating Breast, by the dear Statue lies. He kisses her white Lips, renews the Bliss, And looks and thinks they redden at the Kiss: He thought them warm before: Nor longer stays, But next his Hand on her hard Bosom lays: Hard as it was, beginning to relent, It seemed, the Breast beneath his Fingers bent; He felt again, his Fingers made a Print, 'Twas Flesh, but Flesh so firm, it rose against the Dint: The pleasing Task he fails not to renew; Soft, and more soft at every Touch it grew; Like pliant Wax, when chafing Hands reduce The former Mass to Form, and frame for Use He would believe, but yet is still in pain, And tries his Argument of Sense again, Presses the Pulse, and feels the leaping Vein. Convinced, o'erjoyed, his studied Thanks and Praise, To her who made the Miracle, he pays: Then Lips to Lips he joined; now freed from Fear, He found the Savour of the Kiss sincere: At this the wakened image oped her Eyes, And viewed at once the Light and Lover, with surprise. The Goddess present at the Match she made, So blessed the Bed, such Fruitfulness conveyed, That e'er ten Moons had sharpened either Horn, To crown their Bliss, a lovely Boy was born; Paphos his Name, who, grown to manhood, walled The City Paphos, from the Founder called.
Pygmalion and the statue by Ovidius
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