Bebo Valdés y Diego El Cigala Se me olvidó que te olvidé. C. L. S.

Sebastião Salgado. GENESIS

Flamenco Duo, Bulerías

The white goddess of the sea, Etruscan

LA DEA BIANCA DEL MARE...
LEUCOTEA 
THESAN PER GLI ETRUSCHI

(facebook page: Elementi di Etrucologia)

Leonard Cohen - Bird On The Wire (Best Live Version Ever)

(Arteide, facebook page)

Rene Aubry - Memoires De Futur (Pina Soundtrack)

Sebastiao Salgado (Photos)

...'from the economics of poetry
to the poetry of economics'...

Sarah Jane Morris I Don't Wanna Know About Evil.wmv

well...

Kleines Gedicht

Kleines Gedicht

Leise wie ein Vogel

mit kleinen zähen Flügeln

löse ich mich von der Erde

Sanft wie eine Blume

entfalte ich mein Herz

in diese weite Stille

Ich komme wie die Flut

und ich gehe wie die Ebbe

Welle um Welle um Welle

ich steige, ich sinke,

ich bin

Till Eulenspiegel sings and laughs when he goes up the mountain

Till Eulenspiegel wandert über die Berge

"Alles geht besser, wenn man mehr geht", sagen die, die gern gehen, die zu Fuß große Reisen machen, über Berg und Tal und durch viele Linder.
Einmal war Till mit einer Gruppe von Pilgern unterwegs. Sie waren auf der Reise nach Rom, um dort den Papst zu sehen und die berühmte Peterskirche. Als sie nun über die Alpen wanderten, geschah etwas Sonderbares. Immer, wenn es steil bergauf ging und alle schnauften und stöhnten und sich Schritt für Schritt abmühten, sprang Till singend und lachend die Anhöhe hinauf, als könnte ihm gar nichts Besseres geschehen.
Wenn es aber bergab ging und alle leichten Schrittes abwärts liefen und sich vom Aufstieg erholten, schimpfte und stolperte Till mißmutig hintendrein, und dabei machte er ein Gesicht, als wäre ihm das Hinuntergehen die größte Qual.
"Aber, Meister Till", sagte schließlich einer der Pilger, "ich verstehe Euch nicht. Bergauf, wo es am schwierigsten geht, seid Ihr vergnügt und gutgelaunt. Bergab aber, wenn es uns allen leichter fällt, seid Ihr mürrisch und verärgert. Wie kommt das?"
"Das ist ganz einfach," sagte Till. "Gehe ich bergauf, dann freue ich mich schon auf die wunderbare Aussicht von oben und auf die kurze Rast. Außerdem sehe ich von oben, ob dies der letzte Berg auf unserem Weg ist, oder ob noch ein anderer kommt. Gehe ich aber den Berg hinunter, sehe ich nur das tiefe Tal, in das ich hinein muß und den nächsten Berg, der noch vor mir liegt. Wie sollte ich mich da freuen?"
Sie wanderten noch viele Tage und Wochen. Unglücklich stapfte Till den einen Berg hinunter, und fröhlich lief er den anderen hinauf. Erst als Till von der letzten Anhöhe aus die Stadt Rom vor sich liegen sah, lief er jubelnd auch den Berg hinunter.

(from Till Eulenspiegel tales, Till Owlglass tales)

and another story:

How Owlglass when a child, gave a marvellous answer to a man who asked the way

Once on a time the father and mother of Till Owlglass went away for some time and left him in the house. Then came a man riding by, and he rode his horse half into the house in the doorway, and asked: "Is there nobody inside?"

The child answered: "Yes, a man and a half, and the head of a horse."

Then the man asked: "Where is your father?"

The child answered; "My father is making ill worse; and my mother is gone for scathe or shame."

The man said: "What do you mean ?"

The child answered: "My father is making worse of ill, for he ploughs the field and makes great holes that men fall into when they ride. And my mother is gone to borrow bread, and when she gives it again and gives less it is a shame, and when she gives it and gives more it is scathe."

Then said the man: "Which is the way to ride?"

The child said: "There where the geese go."

Then the man rode to the geese, and when he came close to the them they flew into the water. Then he did not know not where to ride, but turned again to the child and said: "The geese have flown into the water, so I don't know what to do or where to ride."

The child said: "You must ride where the geese go and not where they swim."

The man departed on horseback while he marvelled of the answer of the child.

Straßbourg edition of 1515)

Saturday walk in April

Haunts of Ancient Peace - Van Morrison

Van Morrison- I Forgot That Love Existed (Live)

From: "The Waves", Virgina Woolf

"The sun had now sunk lower in the sky. The islands of cloud had gained in density and drew themselves across the sun so that the rocks went suddenly black, and the trembling sea holly lost its blue and turned silver, and shadows were blown like grey cloths over the sea. The waves no longer visited the further pools or reached the dotted black line which lay irregularly upon the beach. The sand was pearl white, smoothed and shining. Birds swooped and circled high up in the air. Some raced in the furrows of the wind and turned and sliced through them as if they were one body cut into a thousand shreds. Birds fell like a net descending on the tree-tops. Here one bird taking its way alone made wing for the marsh and sat solitary on a white stake, opening its wings and shutting them.

Some petals had fallen in the garden. They lay shell-shaped on the earth. The dead leaf no longer stood upon its edge, but had been blown, now running, now pausing, against some stalk. Through all the flowers the same wave of light passed in a sudden flaunt and flash as if a fin cut the green glass of a lake. Now and again some level and masterly blast blew the multitudinous leaves up and down and then, as the wind flagged, each blade regained its identity. The flowers, burning their bright discs in the sun, flung aside the sunlight as the wind tossed them, and then some heads too heavy to rise again drooped slightly.

The afternoon sun warmed the fields, poured blue into the shadows and reddened the corn. A deep varnish was laid like a lacquer over the fields. A cart, a horse, a flock of rooks--whatever moved in it was rolled round in gold. If a cow moved a leg it stirred ripples of red gold, and its horns seemed lined with light. Sprays of flaxen-haired corn lay on the hedges, brushed from the shaggy carts that came up from the meadows short legged and primeval looking. The round-headed clouds never dwindled as they bowled along, but kept every atom of their rotundity. Now, as they passed, they caught a whole village in the fling of their net and, passing, let it fly free again. Far away on the horizon, among the million grains of blue-grey dust, burnt one pane, or stood the single line of one steeple or one tree.

The red curtains and the white blinds blew in and out, flapping against the edge of the window, and the light which entered by flaps and breadths unequally had in it some brown tinge, and some abandonment as it blew through the blowing curtains in gusts. Here it browned a cabinet, there reddened a chair, here it made the window waver in the side of the green jar.

All for a moment wavered and bent in uncertainty and ambiguity, as if a great moth sailing through the room had shadowed the immense solidity of chairs and tables with floating wings."

Hope, Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

All people dream, D.H. Lawrence

“All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, wake in the
morning to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous
people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, And make them come
true.”

D.H. Lawrence

Josephine Foster- Trust in the Unexpected

MAX RICHTER - HORIZON VARIATIONS

hector zazou w/david sylvian - a victim of stars

hector zazou - iacoute song (feat.lioudmila khandi)

BANCO - CANTO DI PRIMAVERA