Pensaments i violes... Pansies

És una planta petita, amb flors solitàries... Tolera viure a plena llum, però pot estar a la penombra, i és resistent a les baixes temperatures...

Haven't you heard?

I'm stuck on a verse

I'm stuck on a boy

who fills me with joy

I knew I was wrong

to jump straight on into

this picture so pretty

But he is so pretty to me

And he doesn't know

just how far I would go

Just to kiss him

He doesn't know I pine

So I make whirlpools

And watch him sparkle

And we'll make love make magic

And haven't you heard?

I thought I had first

And he loves me so

We're two in a row

Just look in his eyes

They're blue as the skies

a picture so pretty

but he is so pretty to me

So I make whirlpools

And watch him sparkle

And we'll make love make magic

But I couldn't tell you

Just tell that it takes you

'Cause words don't make

what I make with him

Haven't you heard?

I'm stuck on a verse

I'm stuck on a boy

who fills me with joy

I knew I was wrong

to jump straight on into

this picture so pretty

But he is so pretty to me

Kate Walsh - "Your Song"

live at The Tractor Tavern, Seatle, May 2008

Tristan & Isolda

Tristan e Isolda, S. Dalí

YOU WON'T FORGET ME

(K. Goell/F. Speilman)

You won't forget me, though you may try
I'm part of memories, too wonderful to die
And it will happen, that now and then
You'll fall to wonderin' if we shouldn't have tried again

You won't forget me, on nights like this
The moon will cast on you the shadow of my kiss
No matter where you are with whom you are
You'll think of me, you won't forget me
Just wait and see, you won't forget me
Just wait and see, you won't forget me

You Won't Forget Me (1990)

Miles Davis - trumpet
Charles Ables - bass
Steve Williams - drums
Shirley Horn - vocal

SABA

L'ALT DE LA BARCELLA

Pensava que m'agrada sempre aquesta llum,
la grava entre pinedes i romers,
les negres penyes que s'alcen de sobte
o s'escampen al llarg de clapes verdes
de garriga i baladre cavant illes
en les aigües escasses del meu riu.
La bellesa n'és aquesta aparença,
la calidesa d'oblits successius
que fan més sàvia la memòria.
Com el retorn al cim on busque el mar
i l'enyor d'aquells tords tocant a mà
Quan roden les pinedes, les olives,
el mos de vent aquest hivern tan íntim
per on davalle amb aquell qui vaig ser
sobre aquell paradís tan innocent
on no habita l'ahir i tot és ara.
Pensava en l'existència dels altres,
els qui vindran a veure's ací dalt
i prolongar l'intent de cada alba.


(Vicent Berenguer)

Joseph Marie Canteloube (1879-1957)
Baïlèro, folksong for voice & orchestra (Chants d'Auvergne, vol. 1, n°. 2)
Elly Ameling, soprano. Rudolf Jansen, piano.


PAISATGE

Criatures. Ai!, criden.
Parlen cantant.

...
És dia clar en trànsit de renovar la saba
i els éssers que demanen el lloc on ser un temps
calent, temperat, fresc, dins la quietud immensa.

Els sorolls de la vida demanen existència
barranc, pinada, lloma reposada, eucaliptus
perfumat d'eucaliptus, immemorial i vast.

La paraula cantada és només d'una síl·laba.
Potser que així demana aparellar els cors.
Les crides són en blau. Les respostes se semblen...

(Joan Climent)