Saturday, 26 June 2010

Et les marguerites...


Et les violettes elles-mêmes, écloses par magie dans l’herbe, cette nuit, les reconnais-tu ? Tu te penches, et comme moi tu t’étonnes ; ne sont-elles pas, ce printemps-ci, plus bleues ? Non, non, tu te trompes, l’an dernier je les ai vues moins obscures, d’un mauve azuré, ne te souviens-tu pas ?… Tu protestes, tu hoches la tête avec ton rire grave, le vert de l’herbe neuve décolore l’eau mordorée de ton regard… Plus mauves… non, plus bleues… Cesse cette taquinerie ! Porte plutôt à tes narines le parfum invariable de ces violettes changeantes et regarde, en respirant le philtre qui abolit les années, regarde comme moi ressusciter et grandir devant toi les printemps de ton enfance…

Colette, Les vrilles de la vigne (Le dernier feu)



Mischa Maisky, Bach - Cello Suite No.6 i-Prelude

Thursday, 24 June 2010

Some of the bulbs never opened quite fully, they might so i'm waiting and staying awake...


The flowers you gave me are rotting and still I refuse to throw them away.
Some of the bulbs never opened quite fully
They might so i'm waiting and staying awake.
Things I have loved i'm allowed to keep
I'll never know if I go to sleep.
The papers around me are piling and twisting regina the paper back mummy
what then.
I'm taking the knife to the books that I own and chopping and chopping and boiling soup from stone.
Things I have loved i'm allowed to keep.
I'll never know if I go to sleep.
Things I have loved i'm allowed to keep.
I'll never know if I go to sleep.


Regina Spektor, The Flowers


Thursday, 17 June 2010

Mon coeur tendu de lierre odorant et de treilles...


Mon coeur tendu de lierre odorant et de treilles,
Vous êtes un jardin où les quatre saisons
Tenant du buis nouveau, des grappes de groseilles...


Anna de Noailles, Le coeur

Monday, 7 June 2010

Stuck between the burning shade and the faded light...


I was alone
I was tired but now im bound
My head is off the ground
For a long time I was so weary
Tired of the sound,I've heard before
Knowing of the nights im out the door
Haunted by the things i've made
Stuck between the burning light and the dusty shade

Said I used to think the past was dead and gone
But I was wrong, so wrong
Whatever makes you blind must make you strong,make you strong
In my time I've melted into many forms
From the day that I was born,I know that there is no place to hide
Stuck between the burning shade and the fading light

I was broken for a long time
But it's over now
Said I was broken for a long time
But it's over now

Yes and you,
yeah well you walk these lonely streets that people send, people send
There are some wounds that just can't mend
And I do pretend
Now I'm free from all the things that take my friends
And I will stand here till the end
Now I know I can take the moon
Stuck between the burning shade and the faded light
I was broken for a long time
But it's over now, it's over now
Mmm it's over now, now, now
It's over now, it's over now.
It's over now, now

Said I was broken for a long time
But it's over, but it's over
But it's over, but it's over
But it's over, but it's over
But it's over now, now, now, now
But it's over, love is over
But it's over now
But it's over, love is over
But it's over now, now, now
I was broken for a long time now
But it's over, but it's over now yeah
Over now, it's all over, it's over now.


Robert Pattinson, I Was Broken


Saturday, 5 June 2010

À travers les feuilles...


Toujours
Nous irons plus loin sans avancer jamais

Et de planète en planète
De nébuleuse en nébuleuse
Le don Juan des mille et trois comètes
Même sans bouger de la terre
Cherche les forces neuves
Et prend au sérieux les fantômes

Et tant d'univers s'oublient
Quels sont les grands oublieurs
Qui donc saura nous faire oublier telle ou telle partie du monde
Où est le Christophe Colomb à qui l'on devra l'oubli d'un continent

Perdre
Mais perdre vraiment
Pour laisser place à la trouvaille
Perdre
La vie pour trouver la Victoire

Guillaume Apollinaire, Toujours



Debussy, Cloches à travers les feuilles - Gülsin Onay

Thursday, 3 June 2010

Les foules...


Regardez ces têtes pressées, ce flot d’hommes, ce tas de vivants. N’y voyez-vous rien que des gens réunis ? Oh ! c’est autre chose, car il se produit là un phénomène singulier. Toutes ces personnes côte à côte, distinctes, différentes de corps, d’esprit, d’intelligence, de passions, d’éducation, de croyances, de préjugés, tout à coup, par le seul fait de leur réunion, forment un être spécial, doué d’une âme propre, d’une manière de penser nouvelle, commune, et qui ne semble nullement formée de la moyenne des opinions de tous.(...)

Les Chroniques de Guy de Maupassant, Les foules,
Le Gaulois, 23 mars 1882


Andrew Bird - Glass Figurine