tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2009-11-22:/MokoFeed2009-11-22T00:09:11+01:00tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2009-03-19:/2009/03/19/this-little-rose-5785531/win3xp2009-03-19T06:54:55+01:002009-03-19T07:04:22+01:00 <p>Nobody knows this little Rose --<br> It might a pilgrim be<br> Did I not take it from the ways<br> And lift it up to thee.<br> Only a Bee will miss it --<br> Only a Butterfly,<br> Hastening from far journey --<br> On its breast to lie --<br> Only a Bird will wonder --<br> Only a Breeze will sigh --<br> Ah Little Rose -- how easy<br> For such as thee to die!</p> <p> --Emily Dickenson<br> --Composer, William Roy<br> --Soprano: Cherie Danielle Lemos</p> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2009/03/19/this-little-rose-5785531/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2009-03-13:/2009/03/13/bocelli-bjorling-5747308/win3xp2009-03-13T04:21:18+01:002009-04-13T06:18:05+02:00 <p><strong>Bocelli & Bjorling: Wondrous!</strong></p> <p>"Ideale"</p> <p>Language: Italian</p> <p>Io ti seguii come iride di pace<br> Lungo le vie del cielo:<br> Io ti seguii come un'amica face<br> De la notte nel velo.<br> E ti sentii ne la luce, ne l'aria,<br> Nel profumo dei fiori;<br> E fu piena la stanza solitaria<br> Di te, dei tuoi splendori.</p> <p>In te rapito, al suon de la tua voce,<br> Lungamente sognai;<br> E de la terra ogni affanno, ogni croce,<br> In quel [sogno]1 scordai.<br> Torna, caro ideal, torna un istante<br> A sorridermi ancora,<br> E a me risplenderà, nel tuo sembiante,<br> Una novella aurora.</p> <p>"Ideal"</p> <p>Language: English</p> <p> I followed you like a rainbow of peace<br> along the paths of heaven;<br> I followed you like a friendly torch<br> in the veil of darkness,<br> and I sensed you in the light, in the air,<br> in the perfume of flowers,<br> and the solitary room was full<br> of you and of your radiance.</p> <p> Absorbed by you, I dreamed a long time<br> of the sound of your voice,<br> and earth's every anxiety, every torment<br> I forgot in that dream.<br> Come back, dear ideal, for an instant<br> to smile at me again,<br> and in your face will shine for me<br> a new dawn.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2009/03/13/bocelli-bjorling-5747308/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2009-03-12:/2009/03/12/brilliance-5740696/win3xp2009-03-12T04:05:55+01:002009-03-13T08:19:21+01:00 <p><strong>Two of my favorite concert pieces played by someone I very much admire.<br> </strong></p> <p>Hope you find them interesting.</p> <p>Give you joy!</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2009/03/12/brilliance-5740696/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2008-12-20:/2008/12/20/fountain-pens-5248766/win3xp2008-12-20T07:14:28+01:002008-12-20T07:14:28+01:00 <p>I've used them since I was... Well, I've always used them. Still do. The act of writing by hand is soothing and gives adequate time for thought if addressing an individual.</p> <p>Do you recall when you wrote your last letter by hand? I'm not sure that I do. Note cards qualify - occasion cards may qualify if they consist of more than a phrase of your own words.</p> <p>So what do you think?</p> <p>Blog.uk says it misses me. Somehow I think not, but just in case: Hey guys. It's nice to see that I have friends left here. I'll be watching, should anyone wish to comment.</p> <p>Happy holidays,</p> <p>win </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2008/12/20/fountain-pens-5248766/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-14:/2007/09/14/title~1124506/win3xp2007-09-14T06:37:25+02:002009-03-16T12:23:14+01:00 <p>Of songs rarely found, heard or performed.</p> <p>Like this one, for instance. <strong>** Scroll down to play the music; see the translation. </strong>**</p> <p>What makes this recording all the more special is its rarity "in the wild" today. </p> <p>Of course what makes this recording priceless is that it was made at a live event; a preview) performance/rehearsal, one that was never broadcast. Where did I get it? Irrelevant. Some random notes: The piano in situ is by Steinway and Sons, circa 1929; these several performances were the last it played prior to it's being restrung and thereby destroyed, now some 16 years ago or so.</p> <p>But the recording still exists! That's the important bit. And if you know where to start looking, it can still be found in print -- occasionally.</p> <p>Scroll down should you like to hear it.</p> <p>Since I couldn't lift it further from it's context without destroying it, the song also contains an introduction of sorts, so...we'll see how it plays over the web.</p> <p>Cheers.</p> <p class="center"><strong>*</strong><strong>*</strong>***</p> <p>Von ewiger Liebe (Of Eternal Love)</p> <p>by Johannes Brahms (1833-1897),</p> <p>"Von ewiger Liebe" , op. 43 (Vier Gesänge) no. 1 (1864)</p> <p>Poem by Josef Wenzig (1807-1876)</p> <p class="center"><strong>*</strong><strong>*</strong>****</p> <p>Ooops. <strong>* To hear this music please scroll down. </strong>*</p> <p>Dunkel, wie dunkel in Wald und in Feld!<br> Abend schon ist es, nun schweiget die Welt.<br> Nirgend noch Licht und nirgend noch Rauch, Ja,<br> und die Lerche sie schweiget nun auch.<br> Kommt aus dem Dorfe der Bursche heraus,<br> Gibt das Geleit der Geliebten nach Haus,<br> Führt sie am Weidengebüsche vorbei,<br> Redet so viel und so mancherlei:</p> <p>»Leidest du Schmach und betrübest du dich,<br> Leidest du Schmach von andern um mich,<br> Werde die Liebe getrennt so geschwind,<br> Schnell wie wir früher vereiniget sind.<br> Scheide mit Regen und scheide mit Wind,<br> Schnell wie wir früher vereiniget sind.</p> <p>« Spricht das Mägdelein, Mägdelein spricht:<br> »Unsere Liebe sie trennet sich nicht!<br> Fest ist der Stahl und das Eisen gar sehr,<br> Unsere Liebe ist fester noch mehr.</p> <p>Eisen und Stahl, man schmiedet sie um,<br> Unsere Liebe, wer wandelt sie um?<br> Eisen und Stahl, sie können zergehn,<br> Unsere Liebe muß ewig bestehn!</p> <p>« English Translation: Of eternal love</p> <p>Dark, how dark it is in the forest and field!<br> Night has fallen; the world now is silent.<br> Nowhere a light and nowhere smoke.<br> Yes, now even the lark is silent.<br> From yonder village there comes the young lad,<br> Taking his beloved home.<br> He leads her past the willow bushes,<br> Talking so much, and of so many things:<br> "If you suffer shame and if you grieve,<br> If you suffer disgrace before others because of me,<br> Then our love shall be ended ever so fast<br> As fast as we once came together;<br> It shall go with the rain and go with the wind,<br> As fast as we once came together.</p> <p>"Then says the maiden, the maiden says:<br> "Our love shall never end!<br> Steel is firm and iron is firm,<br> Yet our love is firmer still.<br> Iron and steel can be recast by the smith<br> But who would transform our love?<br> Iron and steel can melt;<br> Our love, our love will have to last forever!"</p> <p>French Translation:<br> Sombre, comme il fait sombre par la forêt et par les champs!<br> C'est déjà le soir, le monde est silencieux.<br> Plus de trace de lumière, plus de trace de fumée Et voilà que l'alouette elle-même se tait.<br> Sortant du village,<br> le jeune homme Raccompagne chez elle celle qu'il aime,<br> Passant avec elle auprès des roseaux,<br> Lui parlant d'abondance et de maintes et maintes choses.<br> "Si tu es humiliée et que tu t'en affliges,<br> Si d'autres t'humilient à cause de moi,<br> Qu'alors l'amour entre nous rompe aussi rapidement,<br> Aussi vite qu'autrefois nous avons été unis.<br> Qu'il s'en aille avec la pluie, qu'il s'en aille avec le vent,<br> Aussi vite qu'autrefois nous avons été unis!"<br> C'est alors que la jeune fille, la jeune fille dit:<br> "Notre amour, il ne saurait rompre! Solide est l'acier,<br> et le fer tout autant,<br> Notre amour, lui, est plus solide encore.<br> Le fer et l'acier, par la forge on les transmute,<br> Notre amour, qui pourrait le transformer?<br> Le fer et l'acier, ils peuvent fondre,<br> Notre amour doit durer éternellement!"</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/14/title~1124506/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-13:/2007/09/13/the_people_and_the_songs~2971501/win3xp2007-09-13T07:10:32+02:002007-09-13T07:23:47+02:00 <p>Sometimes I quite forget exactly why this blog still exists... </p> <p>It is, of course, for just two main reasons: A list of friends I admire and read; and for the songs - an international treasure - and the very special people who perform them.</p> <p>Of course, they're also a reminder -- a note to self, if you will -- that I am the living, breathing beneficiary of wonder. Especially inasmuch as I know or have some sort of kinship with these people -- in a primary sort of way.</p> <p>Have a great day, blogland. Public, for today. <img src="/img/smilies/icon_wink.gif" alt=";)" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/13/the_people_and_the_songs~2971501/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-11:/2007/09/12/title~1211647/win3xp2007-09-12T00:13:24+02:002009-03-13T05:57:50+01:00 <p>Lyrics:</p> <p>Fleur promises,<br> Fleur tenues dans tes bras,<br> Fleur sorties des parentheses d'un pas<br> Qui t'apportait ces fleurs l'hiver<br> Saupoudrees du sable des mers?<br> Sable de tes baisers,<br> fleurs ces amours fanees</p> <p>Les beaux yeux sont de cendre<br> et dans la cheminee<br> Un coer errubanne de plaintes<br> Brule avec ses images saintes.</p> <p>Fleur promises.<br> fleur tenues dans tes bras,<br> Qui t'apportait ces fleurs l'hiver<br> Saupoudrees du sable des mers.</p> <p>--Leo de Vilmorin</p> <p>** Translation</p> <p>Promised flowers, flowers held in your arms,<br> flowers sprung from footprints.<br> Who brought you these winter flowers,<br> powdered with the sands of the seas.<br> Sands of your kisses, flowers of faded loves.</p> <p>The beautiful eyes are ashes<br> and in the fireplace<br> a heart beribboned with sighs<br> burns with its treasured images.</p> <p>Promised flowers,<br> flowers held in your arms,</p> <p>Who brought you these winter flowers...</p> <p>---The incomparable Arlene Auger</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/12/title~1211647/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-11:/2007/09/11/title~2959929/win3xp2007-09-11T06:54:32+02:002007-09-11T07:07:54+02:00 <p>J. Brahms: Phanomen Op. 66. No. 2</p> <p>A rare performance of these duets:</p> <p>The second of three Duets by Johannes Brahms.</p> <p>--poem by Goethe</p> <p>Sung in the original German.</p> <p>English translation:</p> <p>If Pheobus joins a bank of rain clouds, </p> <p>a rainbow stands colorfully tinted.</p> <p>In fog I see the same are outlined.</p> <p>Though the brow is white, </p> <p>it is still heaven's. </p> <p>So you, lively old man, do not be sad. </p> <p>Though your hair is white, still you will love.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/11/title~2959929/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-11:/2007/09/11/azulao_jayme_ovalle~1211655/win3xp2007-09-11T06:20:33+02:002007-09-11T06:20:33+02:00 <p>Vai, Azulao, Azulao, copanheiro, vai!<br> Vai ver minha ingrata,<br> Diz que sem elo<br> Sertoa nao e mais sentao!<br> Ai voa Azulao<br> vai contrar companheiro, vai!</p> <p>---Translation---</p> <p>Go, bluebird, my companion, go!<br> Go and see my ungrateful love,<br> say that without her<br> the forest is no longer the forest!<br> Alas, fly bluebird,<br> go and tell her, my companion, go!</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/11/azulao_jayme_ovalle~1211655/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/music_where_soft_voices_die~1211502/win3xp2007-09-10T19:23:15+02:002007-09-10T19:33:41+02:00 <p>Roger Quilter/Percy Bysshe Shelley</p> <p>"Music, Where Soft Voices Die"</p> <p>Music where soft voices die,<br> Vibrates in the memory --</p> <p>Odours, when sweet violets sicken,<br> Live within the sense they quicken.</p> <p>Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,<br> Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;</p> <p>And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,<br> Love itself shall slumber on.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/music_where_soft_voices_die~1211502/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/a_vuchella_paulo_tosti~2957558/win3xp2007-09-10T18:42:49+02:002007-09-11T07:10:30+02:00 <p class="left"> <p>--Luciano Pavarotti</p> <p> A Vucchella</p> <p> Sì, comm'a nu sciorillo<br> tu tiene na vucchella<br> nu poco pocorillo<br> appassuliatella.</p> <p> Meh, dammillo, dammillo,<br> - è comm'a na rusella -<br> dammillo nu vasillo,<br> dammillo, Cannetella!</p> <p> Dammillo e pigliatillo,<br> nu vaso piccerillo<br> comm'a chesta vucchella,</p> <p> che pare na rusella<br> nu poco pocorillo<br> appassuliatella...</p> <p>* by Gabriele d'Annunzio (1863-1938)</p> <p>* by Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846-1916) , "A vucchella" , 1907.</p> <p>"A Vucchella" </p> <p>The Itialian:</p> <p> Sì, comm'a nu sciorillo<br> tu tiene na vucchella<br> nu poco pocorillo<br> appassuliatella.</p> <p> Meh, dammillo, dammillo,<br> - è comm'a na rusella -<br> dammillo nu vasillo,<br> dammillo, Cannetella!</p> <p> Dammillo e pigliatillo,<br> nu vaso piccerillo<br> comm'a chesta vucchella,</p> <p> che pare na rusella<br> nu poco pocorillo<br> appassuliatella...</p> <p> * by Gabriele d'Annunzio (1863-1938)</p> <p> * by Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846-1916) , "A vucchella" , 1907.</p> <p>Translation:<br> "A Sweet Mouth"</p> <p> Yes, like a little flower,<br> You have got a sweet mouth<br> A little bit<br> withered.</p> <p> Please give it to me<br> it's like a little rose<br> Give me a little kiss,<br> give, Cannetella!</p> <p> Give one and take one,<br> a kiss as little<br> as your mouth</p> <p> which looks like a little rose<br> a little bit<br> withered.</p> <p>* Translation from Italian to English by Antonio Giuliano. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/a_vuchella_paulo_tosti~2957558/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/fleurs_poulenc_francis_i_m_thinking_of_y~1276647/win3xp2007-09-10T09:25:20+02:002007-09-10T09:25:20+02:00 <p>Fleur promises,</p> <p>Fleur tenues dans tes bras,</p> <p>Fleur sorties des parentheses d'un pas</p> <p>Qui t'apportait ces fleurs l'hiver</p> <p>Saupoudrees du sable des mers?</p> <p>Sable de tes baisers,</p> <p>fleurs ces amours fanees</p> <p>Les beaux yeux sont de cendre</p> <p>et dans la cheminee</p> <p>Un coer errubanne de plaintes</p> <p>Brule avec ses images saintes.</p> <p>Fleur promises.</p> <p>fleur tenues dans tes bras,</p> <p>Qui t'apportait ces fleurs l'hiver</p> <p>Saupoudrees du sable des mers.</p> <p>--Leo de Vilmorin</p> <p>** Translation</p> <p>Promised flowers, flowers held in your arms,</p> <p>flowers sprung from footprints.</p> <p>Who brought you these winter flowers,</p> <p>powdered with the sands of the seas.</p> <p>Sands of your kisses, flowers of faded loves.</p> <p>The beautiful eyes are ashes</p> <p>and in the fireplace</p> <p>a heart beribboned with sighs</p> <p>burns with its treasured images.</p> <p>Promised flowers,</p> <p>flowers held in your arms,</p> <p>Who brought you these winter flowers...</p> <p> -- Arleen Auger </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/fleurs_poulenc_francis_i_m_thinking_of_y~1276647/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/music_where_soft_voices_die~1244870/win3xp2007-09-10T08:12:14+02:002007-09-10T08:12:14+02:00 <p>Plug in the words here and away we go.--By Roger Quilter</p> <p>Music, when soft voices die,<br> vibrates in the memory<br> Odours, when sweet<br> violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken.</p> <p>Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,<br> Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;<br> And so thy thoughts,<br> when thou art gone,<br> Love itself shall slumber on.</p> <p>Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/music_where_soft_voices_die~1244870/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/before_i_gaze_at_you_again_guinevere_s_f~1195799/win3xp2007-09-10T06:34:21+02:002007-09-11T07:06:09+02:00 <p>Guinevere's Farewell to Lancelot. From Camelot<br> by Frederick Loewe (1901-1988)</p> <p>"Before I Gaze at You Again"</p> <p>Before I gaze at you again<br> I'll need a time for tears.<br> Before I gaze at you again<br> Let hours turn to years.</p> <p>I have so much forgetting to do<br> Before I try to gaze again at you.</p> <p>Stay away until you cross my mind<br> Barely once a day.</p> <p>Till the moment I awake and find<br> I can smile and say:</p> <p>That I shall gaze at you again<br> Without a blush or qualm.<br> My eyes will shine like new again,<br> My manner poised and calm.</p> <p>Stay far away<br> My love far away<br> Till I forget, I gazed at you today...<br> Today.<br> Today.</p> <p>- Alan Jay Lerner</p> <p>-- Alternate or last verse omitted: text here:<br> No sign of fear,<br> Not even a sigh.<br> And so till when<br> We meet again, </p> <p>Goodbye! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/before_i_gaze_at_you_again_guinevere_s_f~1195799/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/how_do_i_love_thee_elizabeth_barret_brow~1272187/win3xp2007-09-10T06:31:23+02:002007-09-10T08:02:18+02:00 <p>The music by Edouard Lippe<br> The Poem: Elizabeth Barret Browning</p> <p>"How Do I Love Thee"<br> Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)<br> from Sonnets from the Portuguese XLIII</p> <p>How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.</p> <p>I love thee to the depth and breadth and height<br> My soul can reach,<br> when feeling out of sight<br> For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.</p> <p>I love thee to the level of everyday's<br> Most quiet need,<br> by sun and candlelight.</p> <p>I love thee freely, as men might strive for Right;<br> I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.</p> <p>I love thee with the passion put to use<br> In my old griefs,<br> and with my childhood's faith.</p> <p>I love thee with a love I seemed to lose<br> With my lost saints,</p> <p>I love thee with the breath,<br> Smiles, tears, of all my life!</p> <p>and, if God choose,<br> I shall but love thee better after death.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/how_do_i_love_thee_elizabeth_barret_brow~1272187/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/stornello_pietro_cimara_another_song_for~1290810/win3xp2007-09-10T06:20:39+02:002007-09-10T06:20:39+02:00 Sorry, we could not show the Player. Either you have turned JavaScript off or your version of FlashPlayer is too old. <a href="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer/">Click here</a> to get the latest flash player. var so = new SWFObject("http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/dewplayer.swf?son=http://data2.blog.de/media/014/874014_d2f5d7d4d7_a.mp3", "dewplayer", "200", "20", "7", "#FFFFFF");so.write("flashcontent");</p> <p>Son come i chicchi della melograna<br> vellutatie e vermighli i labbri tuoi<br> gareggi colla fragola montana<br> pel profumo del'alito tu puoi.</p> <p>Come le piante che gemme odorate<br> distillano dal tronco e dalla chioma<br> tu stilli dalle tue labbra rosate<br> baci che sono del tuo cor l'aroma.</p> <p>Fammi mutrir di baci si soavi<br> come si nutre di rugiada il fiore:<br> baciami sempre come me baciavi<br> la prima volta he ti strinsi al core!</p> <p>Se tu fossi rugiada le tue stille<br> di vita altrici neghenisti al fior?</p> <p>Baciami dunque, e fa nove scintille<br> arder di vita in quest'a rido cor!</p> <p>Son come i chicchi della melograna<br> vellutati e vermigli i labbrie tuoi!</p> <p>--Arnaldo Fratelli</p> <p>Translation:</p> <p>Like pomegranate seeds are your velvet, vermilion lips</p> <p>The scent of your breath competes with the wild mountain strawberries.</p> <p>Like plants which distill jewels from their stems<br> and leaves you, </p> <p>from your rosy lips exude kisses<br> which are the aroma of your heart.</p> <p>Nourish me with such sweet kisses<br> as the flower is nourished with the dew:<br> kiss me always as you kissed me<br> the first time that I pressed you to my heart.</p> <p>If you were dew, would you deny<br> your life-giving essence to the flower?</p> <p>Kiss me then, and make new sparks flame<br> with life in this arid heart!</p> <p>Like promegranate seeds are your velvet, vermilion lips.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/stornello_pietro_cimara_another_song_for~1290810/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-10:/2007/09/10/why_no_one_to_love_a_stephen_foster_tune~1296910/win3xp2007-09-10T06:03:30+02:002007-09-10T06:03:30+02:00 Sorry, we could not show the Player. Either you have turned JavaScript off or your version of FlashPlayer is too old. <a href="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer/">Click here</a> to get the latest flash player. var so = new SWFObject("http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/dewplayer.swf?son=http://data2.blog.de/media/308/830308_5f392c0176_a.mp3", "dewplayer", "200", "20", "7", "#FFFFFF");so.write("flashcontent");</p> <p>"Why, No One To Love?"</p> <p>by Stephen Foster (1826-1864)</p> <p>No one to love in this beautiful world,<br> Full of warm heaats and bright beaming eyes?<br> Where is the lone heart that nothing can find<br> That is lovely beneath the blue skies?</p> <p>No one to love! No one to love!<br> Why, no one to love?</p> <p>What have you done in this beautiful world,<br> That you're sighing of no one to love?</p> <p>Dark is the soul that has nothing to dwell on!<br> How sad must its brightest hours prove!<br> Lonely the dull brooding spirit must be<br> That has no one to cheriesh and love.</p> <p>No one to love!</p> <p>No one to love!</p> <p>Why, no one to love?...</p> <p>Many a fair one that dwells on the earth<br> Who would greet you with kind words of cheer,<br> Many who gladly would join in your pleasures<br> Or share in your griefs with a tear.</p> <p>No one to love! No one to love!...</p> <p>-- Stephen Foster</p> <p>-- Arlene Auger </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/10/why_no_one_to_love_a_stephen_foster_tune~1296910/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-08:/2007/09/08/seranade_lullaby_charles_gounod_repost_p~1272283/win3xp2007-09-08T22:20:37+02:002007-09-10T07:59:12+02:00 <p>"Quand tu chantes, bercée" -- by Charles Gounod</p> <p>Poesie by Vicomte Victor Marie Hugo (1802-1885),<br> from Marie Tudor, Journée 1, Scene 5.</p> <p><strong>*</strong></p> <p>Quand tu chantes, bercée<br> Le soir entre mes bras,<br> Entends-tu ma pensée<br> Qui te répond tout bas?<br> Ton doux chant me rappelle<br> Les plus beaux de mes jours.</p> <p>Ah! Chantez, Chantez, ma belle,<br> Chantez, chantez toujours!<br> Chantez ma belle, chantez toujours!</p> <p>[ L' homme c' est mon homme. La Voix elle s' approche à chaque couplet.]</p> <p>Quand tu ris, sur ta bouche L'amour s'épanouit,<br> Et soudain le farouche Soupçon s'évanouit.<br> Ah! le rire fidèle prouve un coeur sans détours!</p> <p>Ah! Riez, ma belle, Riez, toujours!</p> <p>Quand tu dors, calme et pure, al' ombre, sous mes yeux,<br> ton haleine murmure des mots harmonieux.<br> Ton beau corps se révèle sans voile et sans atours...</p> <p>Ah! Dormez, dormez ma belle... dormez dormez toujours!</p> <p>--This verse is traditionally omitted:</p> <p>Quand tu me dis: je t' aime ! ô ma beauté! Je croi ! Je crois que le<br> ciel même s' ouvre au-dessus de moi! Ton regard étincelle du beau feu des amours... aimez, ma belle, aimez toujours! Vois-tu? Toute la vie tient dans ces quatre mots, tous les biens qu' on envie, tous les biens sans les maux! Tout ce qui peut séduire tout ce qui peut charmer...chanter et rire, dormir, aimer</p> <p>An English Translation:</p> <p>When you sing in the evening cradled in my arms,<br> can you hear my thoughts softly answering you?<br> Your sweet song recalls to me the happiest days I've known.</p> <p>Sing, sing, my pretty one, sing on forever!</p> <p>When you laugh, love blossoms on your lips,<br> and at once cruel suspicion vanishes.<br> Ah, faithful laughter shows a heart without guile.</p> <p>Laugh, laugh, my pretty one, laugh on forever!</p> <p>When you sleep calm and pure beneath my gaze, in<br> the shadow, your breathing murmurs harmonious words.<br> Your lovely body is revealed without veil or finery.</p> <p>Sleep, sleep, my pretty one,<br> sleep on (always) forever! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/08/seranade_lullaby_charles_gounod_repost_p~1272283/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-08:/2007/09/08/chanson_de_l_adieu_paolo_tosti~1342204/win3xp2007-09-08T07:11:37+02:002007-09-10T06:15:33+02:00 <p>Chanson de l'adieu</p> <p>Composer: Paolo Tosti</p> <p>dans le français sans marques d'accent</p> <p>Partir, c'est mourir un peu,<br> C'est mourir a ce qu'on aime:<br> On laisse un peu soi-meme<br> En toute heure et dans tout lieu.<br> C'est toujours le deuil d'un voeu,<br> Le denier vers d'un poeme;</p> <p>Partir c'est mourir un peu<br> C'est mourir a ce qu'on aime.<br> Et l'on part, et c'est un jeu,<br> Et jusqua' l'adieu supreme<br> C'est son ame que l'on seme,<br> Que l'on seme en chaque adieu:</p> <p>Partir, c'est mourir un peu, bis.<br> C'est toujours le deuil d'un voeu, etc.</p> <p>l'anglais with accent marks <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>To go away is to die a little,<br> is to die to what one loves:<br> One leaves a little of one's self<br> in every moment, every place.<br> It always means a broken promise,<br> the last line of a poem.<br> To go away is to die a little,<br> it is to die to what one loves.<br> Yet one leaves, and 'tis a game,<br> and until the final farewell,<br> it is one's spirit that is strewn,<br> strewn at each farewell:<br> to go away is to dia a little....<br> It always means a broken promise....</p> <p>Meanwhile, enjoy the greatest tenor of our time.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/08/chanson_de_l_adieu_paolo_tosti~1342204/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2007-09-04:/2007/09/05/heart_we_will_forget_him_her~1258330/win3xp2007-09-05T00:11:27+02:002009-03-03T12:20:51+01:00 <p>Composer: Aaron Copland (1900-1990)</p> <p>Heart, we will forget him/her<br> You and I, tonight.<br> You may forget the warmth he/she gave,<br> I will forget the light.</p> <p>Imperfect Translation:</p> <p>Coeur, nous oublierons lui/elle<br> Vous et I, ce soir.<br> Vous pouvez oublier la chaleur qu'il a donnée, j'oublierez la lumière.</p> <p>When you have done, pray tell me,<br> That I my thoughts may dim;<br> Haste! lest while you're lagging,<br> I may remember him!</p> <p>--Emily Dickenson</p> <p>----Arleen Auger </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2007/09/05/heart_we_will_forget_him_her~1258330/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-11-29:/2006/11/29/a_portuguese_folk_song_1971_prime~1381221/win3xp2006-11-29T10:43:41+01:002009-03-04T09:46:58+01:00 <p>A Portuguese Folk Song: Given by her one and only voice teacher, Estelle Liebling. </p> <p>Here, Beverly Sills sings the song with which she closed each and all of her concerts and recitals throughout the world. </p> <p>Here, that is, are the lyrics of this song as she sang it in her prime.</p> <p>She re-wrote them to sing at her Farewell Gala at the New York State Theater, Lincoln Center, New York.</p> <p>I may post that track subsequently, because...I love it.</p> <p>****</p> <p>Tell me why you bid me leave you?</p> <p>There are tears in your dear eyes.</p> <p>Tell me why you wish our parting.</p> <p>Is not my love worth more than sighs?</p> <p>Why deny then that you love me?</p> <p>Oh my sweet, why not confess</p> <p>That, in spite of your refusal,</p> <p>When you say no, tis really yes;</p> <p>That, in spite of your refusal,</p> <p>When you say no, tis really yes.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/11/29/a_portuguese_folk_song_1971_prime~1381221/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-07:/2006/10/07/oh_yes_the_writing_how_to_stop_it~1198398/win3xp2006-10-07T23:30:31+02:002006-10-07T23:30:31+02:00 <p>I wish I knew. But I don't. I've always written. I guess I always shall....</p> <p>And now to you...</p> <p>win </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/07/oh_yes_the_writing_how_to_stop_it~1198398/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-07:/2006/10/07/yes_weekends_are_exacting_for_many_of_us~1198182/win3xp2006-10-07T22:03:16+02:002006-10-07T22:03:16+02:00 <p>I admire you for your pursuit at school. There indeed lies one creature of revisions. The other I know well, is that of the writer, compelled by unseen forces to set his/her sentences upon the page. A humble offering...that others might occasionally know the mind of God, through one such journey here.</p> <p>I continue reading.</p> <p>Best,</p> <p>win</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/07/yes_weekends_are_exacting_for_many_of_us~1198182/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-07:/2006/10/07/thanks_for_the_pointer_ggg_to_the_poetry~1198115/win3xp2006-10-07T21:42:07+02:002006-10-07T21:42:07+02:00 <p>I have read and learned. </p> <p>And I shall now read more....</p> <p>Love,</p> <p>win</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/07/thanks_for_the_pointer_ggg_to_the_poetry~1198115/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-07:/2006/10/07/when_life_is_cruel_one_listens_to_our_be~1195916/win3xp2006-10-07T08:39:07+02:002006-10-07T23:28:33+02:00 <p>And as we listen so we weep for the beauty of this wondrous music, and for the loss of out greatest treasure on earth.</p> <p>"Lay ye not up treasures on earth...For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." And so it is true.</p> <p>The tears just are. For now all of this music will forever be associated with her, a and I'm glad of it. And if I never sing it again myself (because I can't hold it together long enough to get through it) well then, there's another song that applies. A finale, to be sure.</p> <p>An Old song: </p> <p>One by Earnest Charles:</p> <p>When I have sung my songs to you, I'll sing no more.<br> T'would be a sacrilege to sing at another door.</p> <p>We've worked so hard to hold our dreams, just you and I,<br> I could not do it all again, I'd rather die,<br> at just the thought, that I have loved so well,<br> so true,</p> <p>That I could never sing again,<br> that I could never,<br> never sing again,<br> except...<br> to you.</p> <p>There. Finished. Memory is a tricky thing sometimes.</p> <p>All the best, </p> <p>win</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/07/when_life_is_cruel_one_listens_to_our_be~1195916/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-07:/2006/10/07/revisions_i_know_a_couple_of_creatures_w~1195774/win3xp2006-10-07T05:47:34+02:002006-10-07T05:47:34+02:00 <p>Which sort are you?</p> <p>Best,</p> <p>win. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/07/revisions_i_know_a_couple_of_creatures_w~1195774/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-06:/2006/10/06/oh_well_now_i_know_where_all_the_girls_w~1193103/win3xp2006-10-06T10:13:16+02:002006-10-06T10:13:16+02:00 <p>And so my day comes to a close....</p> <p>Almost. But not before I wish you a great day.</p> <p>Do you do chats, too LJ?</p> <p>If so, I would be please at some point....</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/06/oh_well_now_i_know_where_all_the_girls_w~1193103/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-06:/2006/10/06/be_right_back_my_10_year_old_is_buffing_~1193073/win3xp2006-10-06T10:04:12+02:002006-10-06T10:04:12+02:00 <p>This would be Mattie, 11 in November.</p> <p>Rose isn't up yet. But it won't be long before they are marching up and down the hall....</p> <p>So beautiful....</p> <p>Be right back.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/06/be_right_back_my_10_year_old_is_buffing_~1193073/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-06:/2006/10/06/i_m_feeling_fortunate_today_somehow_i_lu~1193056/win3xp2006-10-06T09:57:26+02:002006-10-06T09:57:26+02:00 <p>And found a friend.</p> <p>It's a great feeling.... I wish it for you too.</p> <p>But I have an idea about the tears you've shed. And if it's what I think it is, then.....</p> <p>I wish you joy.</p> <p>Now.</p> <p>Today.</p> <p>win</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/06/i_m_feeling_fortunate_today_somehow_i_lu~1193056/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:win3xp.blog.co.uk,2006-10-06:/2006/10/06/but_as_for_jules_she_is_great_the_best_t~1192984/win3xp2006-10-06T09:34:16+02:002006-10-06T09:34:16+02:00 <p>I am proud to serve with her.</p> <p>Here on FunFlight she is now my superior officer. She commands the squadron. I just bow and scrape.</p> <p>She sends you her best.</p> <p>Blushing? Ooooo. Cool. I want to see.</p> <p>You are very good LJ.</p> <p>Thank you for being my friend and for delivering me from despair this day, yet once again. </p> <p>win</p> <p>p.s. messages sent? posts made? Hmmmm. Well, I hope you like them.... Ooops, indeed.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://win3xp.blog.co.uk/2006/10/06/but_as_for_jules_she_is_great_the_best_t~1192984/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>