Iulia Toyo

Ebook Iulia Toyo

Iulia is a Sagittarius who loves to cross the world, the mountains and the countries, the poems and the dreams. Since childhood she loved math, therefore she studied Engineering at a College of Mountanology. After that she did her Masterate in Tourism, made some shooting at The International Festival of Theatre from Sibiu, where she met a various number of artists from around the world, this beeing a good oportunity for her to learn about their culture (theatre, poetry and music).

Now she is studying again, at The Scientific Informatics college, she reads and writes poems, does animation clips and software, especialy for literature sites and about mountains.

We can say that Iulia is a mathematician-artist , or an artist who loves informatics, but especially that she loves life and the poetry of life.

A beautiful day

One day, the words of the poet
Grow like flowers in summer fields,
Waves foaming our tears
Will break in distant star clusters,
The sun's rays will write on the high mountains
The words Peace and Friendship,
And the streets of the city shall be full of hidden treasures,
Like love, forgiveness ...

One day, the words of the poet
Sing in the language of angels and the smiles of children,
Joy will fill the hearts of the innocent
Forget that racism, hunger and pain,
In mirrors and break the sadness of loneliness.

One day our dreams will find hope
Wise Souls And the sanctity of life
Will rule the new world,
Governed by free poets
A world of peace.


Summer flowers,
Of the sun,
Wheat fields,
Amaze me.

Autumn leaves,
Red and yellow,
Blowing in the wind.

In the winter,
White solfeggio,
Snow flowers ...

The love of child ...

It is the need to know
It is the need of hope,
Having sun and skies
Every day, in his eyes,

To trust
In any environment,
Dreaming the day,
The stars in the hand

Love is blessing
Every day in the future,
Life expectancy,
Everyone childhood ...

On the streets of times past

On the streets of times past
We divide eternity
In homes,
Into stars and songs,

In red roofs,
Flight of blackbirds,
And we think at the age of dance
Of childhood ...

On the nearby ...

It is said that every stone,
every tree, every place,
Of this magnificent Earth,
Talking about you,

My childhood home,
I left one day,
Search elegance
On the nearby ...


It is sad autumn dance,
Wind Dance by foliage,
When late summer leaves us
A sweet burden on the shoulders,

Sadness of a violin,
When all thoughts of sleep,
As a song bird
Flying ...

Georges Moustaki

With your mouth of a metic
You came, my Greek friend,
We sing for freedom,
Of solitude and summer,

You came to enchanting,
With your hair to the winds,
Dream night and every day,
A beautiful eternity of love ...

My house

My childhood home
It is a beautiful memory,
Song, dance,
On the street of my future.

My little village,
I see it often,
Telling me about the age
When I was a child.


In the middle of the forest,
On the lake,
Flight of butterflies.

Behind the hill,
We smile ..

On the branches,
to wake up.


Childhood dream
butterfly fly
Spaces of yesteryear.

When far away
In some sky
The memory comes

Among the buds,
My soul is diving
From a white pigeon.

Like a violin

Trembles in his trees to the sky,
In the forest that hides the mystery,
The dream of green grass,
In the mountain that we covered,

As a violin while solitary
Who sings the sound of the river
The dance pirouettes
In cry of the lark ...


It snows, Balchik
It's winter, it's chic
A chimera in red
Sea that moves.

It's winter, it's chic
Heaven and earth,
Covered in mystery
It snows, Balchik

Armed World

Armed world who kills
The human destiny
Children who live
In cornners of hate
Barely surviving,
Death is ridding
Horses of money…

Armed world, I’d wish,
Against your assassins,
To give you instead of
Weapons, Flowers!

It’s snowing

It’s snowing, it’s winter,
Everything is white in the world,
It’s like a chimera,
Who’s tramping.

It’s winter, it’s snowing,
The sky and the earth
Are like a white cortege,

The wind felt asleep,
In a small college,
We’re all excited,
We’re all snowmen.

As the trees

As the trees head to the sky,
As the forest hides a mystery,
Like the grass always dreams to be green,
And the mountains watches us from above,
As the bear wants a bit of honey,
And on his way, the river
Brings the song of the nightingale,
So my heart sings a chansonette!

Who’s talking?

Who’s talking? The snow,
In the dreaming night,
Tender snowdrop,
Whispering secretly;

Who’s talking? The wind,
Telling tales
Of heroes who live
In fantasy castles;

Who’s talking? These are
The children of the skies,
Singing louder…
Who’s talking? Christmas!


Pigeons are flying
In my childish dreams
Their wings are crossing
My past winters.

They call me from far away,
In a peaceful sky,
To the ilusionist South
For every traveling bird.

In this environment
Of dream,
My soul becomes
A white pigeon.


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