August, 2018

Last day of August 2018

POSTED IN Summer August 31, 2018

Playground in the end of August 2018

Ti amo

POSTED IN Music August 26, 2018

Ti Amo

I remember when I saw your face
You caught me smiling, I had to look away
And I could not resist the promise of your kiss
Now dream is all I do, of paradise and you
I wanna be where the sun is shining
Amore mio
I wanna have you there beside me
Amore mio
Now those lazy summer days
They seem so far away
Wherever you may go
Ti amo
I remember sunsets on fire
Nights of endless passion
Burning with desire
I close my eyes and I can see your smile
Sky is clear, the ocean blue
I’m in paradise with you
I wanna be where the sun is shining
Amore mio
I wanna have you there beside me
Amore mio
Now those lazy summer days
They seem so far away
Wherever you may go
Ti amo
Take me back to where the magic is
Let me hold you in my arms
Under the stars
Rainy days and lonely nights
Only darkness there’s no light
Without you in my life
Ti amo
I wanna be where the sun is shining
Amore mio
I wanna have you there beside me
Amore mio
Now those lazy summer days
They seem so far away
Wherever you may go
Ti amo.

 

Gina G.

Bitter Sweet Symphony

POSTED IN Music August 25, 2018

Bitter Sweet Symphony

Cause it’s a bittersweet symphony this life
Trying to make ends meet, you’re a slave to the money then you die.
I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah.
No change, I can’t change, I can’t change, I can’t change,
but I’m here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
But I’m a million different people from one day to the next
I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

Well I never pray,
But tonight I’m on my knees, yeah.
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah.
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now.
But the airwaves are clean and there’s nobody singing to me now.

No change, I can’t change, I can’t change, I can’t change,
But I’m here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
And I’m a million different people from one day to the next
I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

Cause it’s a bittersweet symphony this life.
Trying to make ends meet, trying to find some money then you die.
I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah.
No change, I can’t change, I can’t change, I can’t change,
but I’m here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
But I’m a million different people from one day to the next
I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
I can’t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

It justs sex and violence melody and silence
It justs sex and violence melody and silence (I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down)
It’s just sex and violence melody and silence
It’s just sex and violence melody and silence
It’s just sex and violence melody and silence (I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down)
(It’s just sex and violence melody and silence)Been down
(Ever been down)
(Ever been down)
(Ever been down)
(Ever been down)
(Ever been down)

The Verve

Unde-s nebunii? / Where are the madmen?

POSTED IN contemporary poetry, translated Romanian-English August 21, 2018

Unde-s nebunii? / Where are the madmen?

Unde-s nebunii, unde ni-s nebunii?
E, Doamne, lumea plină de cuminţi,
E plin pământul de martiri şi sfinţi
Atinşi de filoxera-nțelepciunii.

Tăcuta-i gloata de-nțelepți ca sfinxul
În faţa lumii şi-a nemărginirii
Şi-ascultător de rânduiala firii,
Cu un plăvan în jug trudeşte insul.

Scâncesc cuminții-n chingile durerii
Şi, sângerând din răni adânci blândeţe,
Lângă neveste mor de bătrâneţe,
Necutezând să tragă spada vrerii.

Boleşte omenirea ca o juncă
Şi nimeni nu-i ca să-i sloboadă sânge;
S-a-mpotmolit istoria şi plânge,
Cu prora-nfiptă într-un colţ de stâncă.

Nu se mai nasc nebuni care s-o mâne
Cu bâta de la spate, ca pe-o vită,
Acestui veac să-i pună dinamită
Şi evu-nțelepciunii să-l dărâme.

O! Doamne, Doamne, unde-s Don Quijotii?
E lumea plină de-alde Sancho Panza
Ce nu-ndrăznesc să mânuiască lanza,
Ci scutieri cuminţi se vor cu toţii.

Unde-s nebunii? Unde-s Machedonii
Să tragă spada şi să taie nodul?
Tânjeşte după glorie norodul
Şi nu-s Cezari să-l treacă Rubiconii…

Sloboade, Doamne,-n lume nebunia,
S-o răvăşească şi să o răstoarne,
Ca un berbec să ia pamîntu-n coarne
Şi-acestui veac să-i surpe temelia!

Demostene Andronescu
……………………………………………………………..

Where are the madmen?

Where are the madmen, are our madmen lost?
God, world is filled by sapient and good,
the Earth is filled by martyrs and sainthood,
all by the wisdom phylloxera crossed.

The mob of wise are silent like the Sphynx
in front of world and the infinyty,
obedient to nature’s trinity
like an ox in the yoke the fellow blinks.

The quiet whimpers in the straps of pain
and bleeding from deep wounds docility,
they die near wives old in tranquility,
not daring sword, not willing sword, in vain.

Humanity is ill like an old cow
and there’s nobody here to bleed its sickness,
the history is stuck and cries as witness,
stuck in the rock of time, of here and now.

Not anymore are born the mad and raving,
to push it from behind, as if a beast,
to this epoch some dynamite to feast
and wisdom time to crush, no more enslaving.

Oh, Lord, Lord, where are all the Don Quijotes,
the world ifs filled only by Sancho Panza
who dares not fight neither by sword nor stanza,
just kind shield bearer are all those bigotes.

Where are the crazy? Where the Machedons?
To shoot the sword and , oh, to cut the knot?
The crowd longs for the glory like they ought
and no more Cesars to cross the Rubicons…

Oh, Lord, release the madness, the lunatics
to storm the world and cast its lethargy,
and like a ram to grub the earth sinewy,
and to destroy this century’s weak bricks.

 

English version, Maria Magdalena Biela

Down in Mexico

POSTED IN Music August 18, 2018

Down in Mexico

Down in Mexicali
There’s a crazy little place that I know
Where the drinks are hotter than the chili sauce
And the boss is a cat named Joe
He wears a red bandana, plays a blues pianna [this is the way he pronounces
It; to rhyme with “bandana”]
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico
He wears a purple sash, and a black moustache
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico
Well, the first time that I saw him
He was sittin’ on a piano stool
I said “Tell me dad, when does the fun begin?”
He just winked his eye and said “Man, be cool.”
He wears a red bandana, plays a blues pianna
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico
He wears a purple sash, and a black moustache
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico

All of a sudden in walks this chick
Joe starts playing on a Latin kick
Around her waist she wore three fishnets
She started dancin’ with the castanets
I didn’t know just what to expect
She threw her arms around my neck
We started dancin’ all around the floor
And then she did a dance I never saw before.
So if you’re south of the border
I mean down in Mexico
And you want to get straight,
Man, don’t hesitate
Just look up a cat named Joe.
He wears a red bandana, plays a blues pianna
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico
He wears a purple sash, and a black moustache
In a honky-tonk, down in Mexico
Yeah, como est usted senorita
Come with me to the border, south of the border, that is
In Mexico, yeah in Mexico
You can get your kicks in Mexico
Come with me baby, come with me, come with me, crazy, yeah

The Coasters

Where the Wild Roses Grow

POSTED IN Music August 18, 2018

Where the Wild Roses Grow

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
They grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped the tears that ran down my face
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I’d seen
I said, ‘Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?
On the second day he came with a single rose
Said: ‘Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?’
I nodded my head, as I laid on the bed
He said, ‘If I show you the roses will you follow?’

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, ‘All beauty must die’
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day.

Nick Cave & Kylie Minogue

Smoothe operator

POSTED IN Music August 6, 2018

Smoothe operator

Diamond life, lover boy
He move in space with minimum waste and maximum joy
City lights and business nights
When you require streetcar desire for higher heights
No place for beginners or sensitive hearts
When sentiment is left to chance
No place to be ending but somewhere to start
No need to ask, he’s a smooth operator
Smooth operator, smooth operator
Smooth operator
Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male
Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale
Face to face, each classic case
We shadow box and double cross
Yet need the chase
A license to love, insurance to hold
Melts all your memories and change into gold
His eyes are like angels but his heart is cold
No need to ask, he’s a smooth operator
Smooth operator, smooth operator
Smooth operator
Coast to coast, LA to Chicago, western male
Across the north and south, to Key Largo, love for sale
Smooth operator, smooth operator
Smooth operator, smooth operator
Smooth operator, smooth operator
Smooth operator, smooth operator
Smooth operator, smooth operator

Sade

La Rosa

POSTED IN classic poetry, Summer August 1, 2018

La Rosa

la inmarcesible rosa que no canto,
la que es peso y fragancia,
la del negro jardín en la alta noche,
la de cualquier jardín y cualquier tarde,
la rosa que resurge de la tenue
ceniza por el arte de la alquimia,
la rosa de los persas y de Ariosto,
la que siempre está sola,
la que siempre es la rosa de las rosas,
la joven flor platónica,
la ardiente y ciega rosa que no canto,
la rosa inalcanzable.

Jorge Luis Borges