as if it were a scene made-up by the mind, that is not mine, but is a made place, that is mine, it is so near to the heart, an eternal pasture folded in all thought so that there is a hall therein that is a made place, created by light wherefrom the shadows that … More Often I Am Permitted to Return to a Meadow
Here is quite a nice English translation of Apollinaire’s “Zone.” You are weary at last of this ancient world Shepherdess O Eiffel tower whose flock of bridges bleats at the morning You have lived long enough with Greek and Roman antiquity Here even automobiles look old Only religion stays news religion As simple as hangars … More Zone
Axé.
Check out Joan Manuel Serrat singing this famous poem, and observe these amazing Civil War photographs from Spain. Hernández wrote the poem in a Nationalist prison, upon receiving a letter from his wife saying she and the child were living on bread and onions. Here, Maria de Medeiros sings it. Axé.
It is another sweltering night. Some thing is moving on this page. You who can not be the sun’s right hand or the left thumb of the goat god Pan, the sun’s blood goat Pan, you must then be love. The bad love the stars give, all glitter eyeliner. What began as a sort of … More Es otra noche sofocante
…Ignoro lo que será del enfermo esta mujer, que le besa y no puede sanarle con el beso, le mira y no puede sanarle con los ojos, le habla y no puede sanarle con el verbo. ¿Es su madre? ¿Y cómo, pues, no puede sanarle? ¿Es su amada? ¿Y cómo, pues, no puede sanarle? ¿Es … More Las ventanas se han estremecido…
somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, … More e. e. cummings
Years ago I took a class from this interesting professor, on Mário de Andrade and music. Before Reeducation I did a lot of things like that. Reeducation was not able to believe we could have had any kind of rich experience in our past, and yet we did. Axé.
This is another song from the Russian lullaby animation project. The child dreams his whole life, and when he is on the point of death, he awakes. I am taking German. In the Roman alphabet, with the English translation, I can understand this whole Yiddish song. Axé.
Ay, ay, caballito negro, ¿dónde llevas tu jinete muerto? Ay, ay, caballito frío, ¡qué perfume de flor de cuchillo! Ay, little black horse, where are you taking your dead rider? Ay, cold little horse, ay the smell of knife-blossom! Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 