zaterdag, februari 16, 2008

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,

woensdag, februari 13, 2008

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

maandag, februari 11, 2008

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