Friday, February 6, 2015
freedom of choice...
https://www.google.com/culturalinstitute/exhibit/evakuierung-und-befreiung-des-konzentrationslagers-auschwitz/gQgHKRpK?projectId=the-holocaust
Jnauary 27th, 1945: Auschwitz evacuated..
Jnauary 27th, 1945: Auschwitz evacuated..
Dr. Victor Frankl, survivor of the concentration camp in Auschwitz, wrote in his diary:
“Those who lived in these places of death can still recall that at night, some of those who were there, would go from tent to tent, comforting the most desperate, many times offering a piece of leftover bread or potato.”
“Only a few were able to act like this, but these few gave everyone the greatest of the lessons: it doesn’t matter what the circumstances are, you can take everything from a man except the freedom of choice.”
We have lost even this twilight, Pablo Neruda
Hemos perdido aun este crepusculo.
Nadie nos vio esta tarde con las manos unidas
mientras la noche azul caia sobre el mundo.
He visto desde mi ventana
la fiesta del poniente en los cerros lejanos.
A veces como una moneda
se encendia un pedazo de sol entre mis manos.
Yo te recordaba con el alma apretada
de esa tristeza que tu me conoces.
Entonces, donde estabas?
Entre que gentes?
Diciendo que palabras?
Por que se me vendra todo el amor de golpe
cuando me siento triste, y te siento lejana?
Cayo el libro que siempre se toma en el crepusculo,
y como un perro herido rodo a mis pies mi capa.
Siempre, siempre te alejas en las tardes
hacia donde el crepusculo corre borrando estatuas.
We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?
The book fell that always closed at twilight
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
Always, always you recede through the evenings
toward the twilight erasing statues
Nadie nos vio esta tarde con las manos unidas
mientras la noche azul caia sobre el mundo.
He visto desde mi ventana
la fiesta del poniente en los cerros lejanos.
A veces como una moneda
se encendia un pedazo de sol entre mis manos.
Yo te recordaba con el alma apretada
de esa tristeza que tu me conoces.
Entonces, donde estabas?
Entre que gentes?
Diciendo que palabras?
Por que se me vendra todo el amor de golpe
cuando me siento triste, y te siento lejana?
Cayo el libro que siempre se toma en el crepusculo,
y como un perro herido rodo a mis pies mi capa.
Siempre, siempre te alejas en las tardes
hacia donde el crepusculo corre borrando estatuas.
We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand
while the blue night dropped on the world.
I have seen from my window
the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
Sometimes a piece of sun
burned like a coin in my hand.
I remembered you with my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
when I am sad and feel you are far away?
and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
toward the twilight erasing statues
This Mortal Coil - Another Day
Oh, really, my dear, I can't see what we fear
Standing here with ourselves in between us
And at the door, we can't say no more than just another day
And without a sound I turn around and I walk away
.......
stolen music...sad...
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