Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance ...

Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

She was beautiful as southern skies
The night he met her
She was married to someone
He was doggedly determined that he would get her
He was old, he was young
From time to time hed tip his heart
But each time she withdrew
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks its true
Well eventually the boy and the girl get married
Sure enough they have a son
And though they both were occupied
With the child she carried
Disagreements had begun
And in a while they fell apart
It wasnt hard to do
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks its true
Two disappointed believers
Two people playing the game
Negotiations and love songs
Are often mistaken for one and the same
Now the man and the woman
Remain in contact
Let us say its for the child
With disagreements about the meaning
Of a marriage contract
Conversations hard and wild
But from time to time
He makes her laugh
She cooks a meal or two
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks its true
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks its true
What is the point of this story
What information pertains
The thought that life could be better
Is woven indelibly
Into our hearts
And our brains

Paul Simon

A lonely goatherd ...

Where are you looking at ?
Originally uploaded by Berta...

Maria:
High on a hill was a lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Loud was the voice of the lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Folks in a town that was quite remote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Lusty and clear from the goatherd’s throat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

the Children:
O ho lay dee odl lee o, o ho lay dee odl ay
O ho lay dee odl lee o, lay dee odl lee o lay

Maria:
A prince on the bridge of a castle moat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Two Children:
Men on a road with a load to tote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

the Children:
Men in the midst of a table d’hote heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Maria:
Men drinking beer with the foam afloat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo (coughs)

One little girl in a pale pink coat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
Brigitta:
She yodeled back to the lonely goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Maria:
Soon her Mama with a gleaming gloat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo
What a duet for a girl and goatherd
Maria and the Children:
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Maria and the Children:
Ummm (ummm) . . .
Odl lay ee (odl lay ee)
Odl lay hee hee (odl lay hee hee)
Odl lay ee . . .
. . . yodeling . . .

Brigitta:
One little girl in a pale pink coat heard
Maria:
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hoo hoo
Brigitta:
She yodeled back to the lonely goatherd
Maria:
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Maria:
Soon her Mama with a gleaming gloat heard
Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hmm hmm
What a duet for a girl and goatherd
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Maria and the Children:
Happy are they lay dee olay dee lee o . . .
. . . yodeling . . .
Soon the duet will become a trio
Maria:
Lay ee odl lay ee odl-oo

Maria (Children):
Odl lay ee, old lay ee (odl lay ee)
Odl lay hee hee, (odl lay hee hee)
Odl lay hee (odl lay hee),
Odl lay odl lee (odl lay odl lee)
Odl lay odl lee(odl lay odi lay)
Odl lay odl lee (odl lay odl lay)
Odl lay odl lay odl lay

the Children:
WHOO!

from: The Sound of Music

A Casa ...

Detail ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

Rima LXXXIV. Tu voz es el aliento de las flores...

A Casta

Tu voz es el aliento de las flores,
tu voz es de los cisnes la armonía;
es tu mirada el esplendor del día,
y el color de la rosa es tu color.

Tú prestas nueva vida y esperanza
a un corazón para el amor ya muerto:
tú creces de mi vida en el desierto
como crece en un páramo la flor.


Rhyme LXXXIV. Your voice is the breath of flowers...

To Chastity

Your voice is the breath of flowers,
your voice is the harmony of swans;
the splendor of the day is your glance,
and the color of roses is your color.

You lend new life and hope
to a heart that already died for love:
you grow in the desert of my life
like a flower on a bleak plateau.

Translated by H. Landman

Thanks to Londeswein

Old Tulips on Old Paper ...

Old Tulips on Old Paper ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

Silvia Plath
Tulips (fragments)

...Nobody watched me before, now I am watched.
The tulips turn to me, and the window behind me
Where once a day the light slowly widens and slowly thins,
And I see myself, flat, ridiculous, a cut-paper shadow
Between the eye of the sun and the eyes of the tulips,
And I hve no face, I have wanted to efface myself.
The vivid tulips eat my oxygen.

Before they came the air was calm enough,
Coming and going, breath by breath, without any fuss.
Then the tulips filled it up like a loud noise.
Now the air snags and eddies round them the way a river
Snags and eddies round a sunken rust-red engine.
They concentrate my attention, that was happy
Playing and resting without committing itself.

The walls, also, seem to be warming themselves.
The tulips should be behind bars like dangerous animals;
They are opening like the mouth of some great African cat,
And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.
The water I taste is warm and salt, like the sea,
And comes from a country far away as health.

Thanks to Londeswein

Hyacinthus Orientalis ...

Hyacinthus Orientalis ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

The menace of the flower

Flower of drowsiness,
lull me but love me not.
How you profuse your perfume,
how overdo your rouge,
flower who kohl your lids
and exhale your soul in the sun!
Flower of drowsiness.
There is one resembles you
in your deceiving blush,
and too because she has
black eyelashes like you.
Flower of drowsiness.
(And I tremble alone to see
your hand in mine,
tremble lest you turn
into a woman one day!)

Alfonso Reyes

Translation by Samuel Beckett

Thanks to Londeswein

I’m going to wrinkle this word ...

Blue Eye ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

I’m going to wrinkle this word,
I’m going to twist it,
yes,
it is much too flat
it is as if a great dog or great river
had passed its tongue or water over it
during many years.

I want that in the word
the roughness is seen
the iron salt
The de-fanged strength
of the land,
the blood
of those who have spoken and those who have not spoken.

I want to see the thirst
Inside the syllables
I want to touch the fire
in the sound:
I want to feel the darkness
of the cry. I want
words as rough
as virgin rocks.

Pablo Neruda,poeta

(Translated by T.M. Lauth)

Thanks to Londeswein

Suzanne ...

Suzanne ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by
You can spend the night beside her
And you know that she's half crazy
But that's why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges
That come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her
That you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer
That you've always been her lover
And you want to travel with her
And you want to travel blind
And you know that she will trust you
For you've touched her perfect body with your mind.
And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

Leonard Cohen,

Saturdaymorning,

Saturdaymorning,
Originally uploaded by Berta...

"Nature" is what we see --
The Hill -- the Afternoon --
Squirrel -- Eclipse -- the Bumble bee --
Nay -- Nature is Heaven --
Nature is what we hear --
The Bobolink -- the Sea --
Thunder -- the Cricket --
Nay -- Nature is Harmony --
Nature is what we know --
Yet have no art to say --
So impotent Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.

(#668) Emily Dickinson

Thanks to londeswein

Red ...

Red ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

Ballade de la vie en rouge
Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)

L'un toujours vit la vie en rose,
Jeunesse qui n'en finit plus,
Seconde enfance moins morose,
Ni voeux, ni regrets superflus.
Ignorant tout flux et reflux,
Ce sage pour qui rien ne bouge
Règne instinctif: tel un phallus.
Mais moi je vois la vie en rouge.

L'autre ratiocine et glose
Sur des modes irrésolus,
Soupesant, pesant chaque chose
De mains gourdes aux lourds calus.
Lui faudrait du temps tant et plus
Pour se risquer hors de son bouge.
Le monde est gris à ce reclus.
Mais moi je vois la vie en rouge.

Lui, cet autre, alentour il ose
Jeter des regards bien voulus,
Mais, sur quoi que son oeil se pose,
Il s'exaspère où tu te plus,
Oeil des philanthropes joufflus;
Tout lui semble noir, vierge ou gouge,
Les hommes, vins bus, livres lus.
Mais moi je vois la vie en rouge.

Thanks to londeswein

Vergeet niet te leven ...

Vergeet niet te leven ...
Originally uploaded by Berta...

Vergeet je niet te leven
dacht ik laatst
de tijd hield stil
een adempauze even

en als je nu eens zonder haast
buiten de tijd om wil
slagbomen neergelaten
dolgedraaide wijzerplaten


onder je door of langs je heen
ze laat voor wat ze zijn en dan
meer lucht en ogen van

het goede aardse zien
een beetje ruimte worden en misschien
iets meer gericht alleen

kees hermis