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Thursday, December 11th, 2008
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Wenn der Mond groß ist
Wenn es Abend wird, fällt mir dein Lächeln ein,
Schwarzer Engel, der meine Träume umnachtet.
Im Herbst saßen wir oft auf den Bänken am Strom,
Stille Kinder, in der abendlichen Sonne.
Wenn dann deine Hand zärtlich über mein Haar strich,
O wie freute sich da die Seele.
Seitdem sind traurige Jahre vergangen,
Ängste und Wahnsinn, zerfallene Abende.
Wenn der Mond groß ist, betet mein bleicher Schatten
In deinem Zimmer verlorene Tänze.
> Francisca Stoecklin > (1894-1931)
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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Cet amour
Si violent
Si fragile
Si tendre
Si désespéré
Cet amour
Beau comme le jour
Et mauvais comme le temps
Quand le temps est mauvais
Cet amour si vrai
Cet amour si beau
Si heureux
Si joyeux
Et si dérisoire
Tremblant de peur comme un enfant dans le noir
Et si sûr de lui
Comme un homme tranquille au milieu de la nuit
Cet amour qui faisait peur aux autres
Qui les faisait parler
Qui les faisait blémir
Cet amour guetté
Parce que nous le guettions
Traqué blessé piétiné achevé nié oublié
Parce que nous l'avons traqué blessé piétiné achevé nié oublié
Cet amour tout entier
Si vivant encore
Et tout ensoleillé
C'est le tien
C'est le mien
Celui qui a été
Cette chose toujours nouvelles
Et qui n'a pas changé
Aussi vraie qu'une plante
Aussi tremblante qu'un oiseau
Aussi chaude aussi vivante que l'été
Nous pouvons tous les deux
Aller et revenir
Nous pouvons oublier
Et puis nous rendormir
Nous réveiller souffrir vieillir
Nous endormir encore
Rêver à la mort
Nous éveiller sourire et rire
Et rajeunir
Notre amour reste là
Têtu comme une bourrique
Vivant comme le désir
Cruel comme la mémoire
Bête comme les regrets
Tendre comme le souvenir
Froid comme le marbre
Beau comme le jour
Fragile comme un enfant
Il nous regarde en souriant
Et il nous parle sans rien dire
Et moi j'écoute en tremblant
Et je crie
Je crie pour toi
Je crie pour moi
Je te supplie
Pour toi pour moi et pour tous ceux qui s'aiment
Et qui se sont aimés
Oui je lui crie
Pour toi pour moi et pour tous les autres
Que je ne connais pas
Reste là
Là où tu es
Là où tu étais autrefois
Reste là
Ne bouge pas
Ne t'en va pas
Nous qui sommes aimés
Nous t'avons oublié
Toi ne nous oublie pas
Nous n'avions que toi sur la terre
Ne nous laisse pas devenir froids
Beaucoup plus loin toujours
Et n'importe où
Donne-nous signe de vie
Beaucoup plus tard au coin d'un bois
Dans la forêt de la mémoire
Surgis soudain
Tends-nous la main
Et sauve-nous.
Jacques Prévert
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, September 4th, 2007
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Wer sollte fragen, wie’s geschah?
Es geht auch andern ebenso.
Ich freute mich, als ich dich sah,
Du warst, als du mich sahst, auch froh.
Der erste Gruß, den ich dir bot,
Macht’ uns auf einmal beide reich;
Du wurdest, als ich kam, so rot,
Du wurdest, als ich ging, so bleich.
Nun kam ich auch tagaus, tagein,
Es ging uns beiden durch den Sinn;
Bei Regen und bei Sonnenschein
Schwand bald der Sommer uns dahin.
Wir haben uns die Hand gedrückt,
Um nichts gelacht, um nichts geweint,
Gequält einander und beglückt
Und haben’s redlich auch gemeint.
Dann kam der Herbst, der Winter gar;
Die Schwalbe zog nach altem Brauch;
Und: lieben? – lieben immerdar?
Es wurde kalt, es fror uns auch.
Ich werde gehn ins fremde Land,
Du sagst mir höflich: Lebe wohl!
Ich küsse höflich dir die Hand,
Und nun ist alles, wie es soll.
Adelbert von Chamisso (1781 – 1838)
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, July 12th, 2007
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Thursday, June 14th, 2007
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Dancing clouds in a cloudless night
Pulsing colors weaving thru shadowed light.
A mosaic of ghosts in a floating sea
Painting a willowy formless tapestry.
Soundless and quiet as a vista on high
A composite of life far greater than I.
Dancing clouds in a cloudless night
A panorama of splendor seen as the
Northern Light.
by
Dave Grondin
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, December 22nd, 2006
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I'm lying alone with my head on the phone
Thinking of you till it hurts
I know you hurt too, but what else can we do?
Tormented and torn apart
I wish I could carry your smile in my heart
For times when my life seems so low
It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring
When today doesn't really know, doesn't really know
I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you
I know you were right, believing for so long
I'm all out of love, what am I without you?
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong
I want you to come back and carry me home
Away from these long lonely nights
I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too?
Does the feeling seem oh so right?
What would you say, if I called on you now
Saying that I can't hold on
There's no easy way, it gets harder each day
Please love me or I'll be gone... I'll be gone
I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you
I know you were right, believing for so long
I'm all out of love, what am I without you?
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong
What are you thinking of?
What are you thinking of?
What are you thinking of?
What are you thinking of?
I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you
I know you were right believing for so long
I'm all out of love, what am I without you?
I can’t be too late, I know I was so wrong
I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you
I know you were right believing for so long
I'm all out of love, what am I without you?
I can't be too late, I know I was so wrong
I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you
I know you were right, believing for so long
I'm all out of love, what am I without you
I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Monday, November 27th, 2006
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Erich Fried
Das Leben
waere
villeicht einfacher
wenn ich dich
gar nicht getroffen haette
Weniger Trauer
jedes Mal
wenn wir uns trennen muessen
weniger Angst
vor der naechsten
und uebernaechsten Trennung
Und auch nicht soviel
von dieser nachtlosen Sehnsucht
wenn du nicht da bist
die nur das Unmoegliche will
und das sofort
im naechsten Augenblick
und die dann
weil es nicht sein kann
betroffen ist
und schwer atmet
Das Leben waere vielleicht
einfacher
wenn ich dich
nicht getroffen haette
Es waere nur nicht
mein Leben
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Sunday, October 1st, 2006
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It's a mystery to me
The game commences
For the usual fee
Plus expenses
Confidential information
It's in a diary
This is my investigation
It's not a public inquiry
I go checking out the report
Digging up the dirt
You get to meet all sorts
In this line of work
Treachery and treason
There's always an excuse for it
And when I find the reason
I still can't get used to it
And what have you got at the end of the day ?
What have you got to take away ?
A bottle of whisky and a new set of lies
blinds on the window and a pain behind the eyes
Scarred for life
No compensation
Private investigations
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Saturday, April 8th, 2006
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Wednesday, December 14th, 2005
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If you won't make your dream come true in this life, then when?
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, December 13th, 2005
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| Time: | 9:47 pm. |
| Mood: |  crappy. |
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Женщинами не рождаются, женщинами становятся.
"One is not born a woman, one becomes one"
Simone De Beauvoir
Каждый мужчина должен это понимать, если только он не последний дурак.
"А real man understands this, unless he is a complete twat."
Anon
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Comments: Read 5 or Add Your Own.
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Sunday, December 11th, 2005
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BOYZ II MEN - A Song for Mama Lyrics
You taught me everything
And everything you've given me
I always keep it inside
You're the driving force in my life, yeah
( The rest of the song )
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Thursday, December 1st, 2005
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This is just something. :D
In a Japanese hotel:
You are invited to take advantage of the chambermaid.
On the menu of a Swiss restaurant:
Our wines leave you nothing to hope for.
In a Bangkok dry cleaners:
Drop your trousers here for best results.
On the door of a Moscow hotel room:
If this is your first visit to the USSR, you are welcome to it.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Monday, November 21st, 2005
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Song of Childhood
By Peter Handke
When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.
When the child was a child,
it didn’t know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.
( the rest of the poem )
( The German Version )
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Nathan Muir: See that building across the way?
Tom Bishop: Yeah.
Nathan Muir: Do you know anyone there?
Tom Bishop: No.
Nathan Muir: In five minutes I want to see you on the balcony.
Tom Bishop: What do...
Nathan Muir: Five minutes.
Tom Bishop: Can't we discuss it over coffee?
Nathan Muir: You just lost ten seconds.
Nathan Muir: Where'd you leard to shoot?
Tom Bishop: Boy scouts, sir.
Nathan Muir: What, are you kidding me?
Tom Bishop: No, sir.
Nathan Muir: If I'm walking into a shit storm I wanna know which way the wind's blowing.
Gladys Jennip: Feeling a little paranoid on our last day?
Nathan Muir: When did Noah build the ark Gladys? Before the rain.
Nathan Muir: Technology gets better everyday. That's fine. But most of the time all you need is a stick of gum, a pocket knife and a smile.
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Comments: Read 1 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, November 9th, 2005
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Su confessa amore mio
Io non sono piu il solo, l’unico
Hai nascosto nel cuore tuo
Una storia irrinunciabile
( Read more... )
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Monday, November 7th, 2005
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The Moon over Mtatsminda
My eyes have never seen the moon so lovely as tonight;
In silence wrapt it is the breathless music of the night.
Moonbeams embroider shadows with fine thread of silver light;
O, eyes have never seen the sky so lovely as tonight!
The moon adorned in beams of pearls seems like a queen divine;
The stars like fire-flies tangled in a web about her shine.
The Mtkvari flows a silver stream of lambent beauty bright;
O, eyes have never seen the sky so lovely as tonight!
( the rest of the poem )
Same poem in georgian.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Monday, October 31st, 2005
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The Art of Poetry
To gaze at a river made of time and water
And remember Time is another river.
To know we stray like a river
and our faces vanish like water.
To feel that waking is another dream
that dreams of not dreaming and that the death
we fear in our bones is the death
that every night we call a dream.
To see in every day and year a symbol
of all the days of man and his years,
and convert the outrage of the years
into a music, a sound, and a symbol.
To see in death a dream, in the sunset
a golden sadness--such is poetry,
humble and immortal, poetry,
returning, like dawn and the sunset.
Sometimes at evening there's a face
that sees us from the deeps of a mirror.
Art must be that sort of mirror,
disclosing to each of us his face.
They say Ulysses, wearied of wonders,
wept with love on seeing Ithaca,
humble and green. Art is that Ithaca,
a green eternity, not wonders.
Art is endless like a river flowing,
passing, yet remaining, a mirror to the same
inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same
and yet another, like the river flowing.
Jorge Luis Borges
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Instants
If I could live again my life,
In the next - I'll try,
- to make more mistakes,
I won't try to be so perfect,
I'll be more relaxed,
I'll be more full - than I am now,
In fact, I'll take fewer things seriously,
I'll be less hygenic,
I'll take more risks,
I'll take more trips,
I'll watch more sunsets,
I'll climb more mountains,
I'll swim more rivers,
I'll go to more places - I've never been,
I'll eat more ice creams and less (lime) beans,
I'll have more real problems - and less imaginary
ones,
I was one of those people who live
prudent and prolific lives -
each minute of his life,
Offcourse that I had moments of joy - but,
if I could go back I'll try to have only good moments,
If you don't know - thats what life is made of,
Don't lose the now!
I was one of those who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer,
without a hot-water bottle,
and without an umberella and without a parachute,
If I could live again - I will travel light,
If I could live again - I'll try to work bare feet
at the beginning of spring till
the end of autumn,
I'll ride more carts,
I'll watch more sunrises and play with more children,
If I have the life to live - but now I am 85,
- and I know that I am dying ...
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Saturday, October 29th, 2005
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"Чтобы любить, надо быть независимой, и не бояться."
"To love, one has to be independent and have no fear."
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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moriela's journal
artistic.
nostalgic.
tired.
okay.