Leonard Cohen - Live in London 2009

Ashram - Shining Silver Skies

Tracklist 

01. 5 Steps...

02. Maria and the Violin's String

03. Sweet Autumn (part II)

04. Lullaby

05. Il Mostro

06. All'Imbrunire

07. Last Kiss

08. Elizabeth

09. For Each and Every Child

10. Tango para Mi Padre y Marialuna

11. Lady

12. Shining Silver Skies

13. Rose and Air

14. Ultimo Carillon

Gifted with a musical sensibility that remains unparalleled, Ashram have conquered a discreet yet faithful fanbase around their delicate music and memorable live performances.

The Neo-Classical style that acts as a foundation to Ashram’s music is usually built upon the moods of pianist Luigi Rubino, who sets a black and white cinematographic mannerism to the songs, hereby uplifted by violinist Edo Notarloberti’s arrangements, a performer well-known from various previous collaborations with other Napolitan projects, and whose soaring violin phrases confer a moving brilliance and distinct character to the project. Sergio Panarella, the group’s singer endowed with a beautiful crooning voice, adds the lighter tones to Ashram’s creations, by contributing also with a couple of acoustic guitar-based mellower Folk ballads now and again.

Four years after their homonymous debut, the Italian ensemble finally completes their second album, “Shining Silver Skies”, a work which unfolds itself as an exercise in musical bliss and purity, drenched in sweet nostalgia that flickers through memories of aching loss or rapturous passion. The trio is also assisted by guest cellist Leonardo Massa on these recordings, whose contribution brings a discreet additional depth to “Shining Silver Skies”, an album which not only embodies the romantic backdrop of early 1900’s glamour but that also flirts with a slightly naive Folk spirit occasionally.

Wim Wenders - Wings of Desire

The sky over Wenders' war-scarred Berlin is full of gentle, trenchcoated angels who listen to the tortured thoughts of mortals and try to comfort them. One, Damiel (Bruno Ganz), wishes to become mortal after falling in love with a beautiful trapeze artist, Marion (Solveig Dommartin). Peter Falk, as himself, assists in the transformation by explaining the simple joys of a human experience, such as the sublime combination of coffee and cigarettes.

Told from the angel's point of view, the film is shot in black and white, blossoming into color only when the angels perceive the realities of humankind. Ultimately, Damiel determines that he must experience humanity in full, and breaks through in to the real world to pursue a life with Marion.

A hugely acclaimed and multi-award winning movie including Best Director for Wenders at Cannes 1987; which was remade in 1998 into a shitty american movie with the title City of Angels starring Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan.

Solveig Dommartin (Marion), Wim Wenders
Bruno Ganz (Damiel)



Solveig Dommartin (Marion), Wim Wenders

Curt Bois (Homer), Otto Sander (Cassiel)

http://www.wim-wenders.com/movies/movies_spec/wingsofdesire/wingsofdesire.htm

Robert Herrick - Upon The Nipples Of Julia's Breast

Have ye beheld (with much delight)
A red rose peeping through a white?
Or else a cherry (double graced)
Within a lily? Centre placed?
Or ever marked the pretty beam
A strawberry shows half drowned in cream?
Or seen rich rubies blushing through
A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?
So like to this, nay all the rest,
Is each neat niplet of her breast.

Robert Herrick
(1591-1674)

Stevie Ray Vaughan - In The Beginning

In the Beginning is an electric blues album performed live by Stevie (Ray) Vaughan and Double Trouble (the stage name at that time did not include Vaughan's middle name). While the album was released about two years after Vaughan's death in 1990, the actual performance took place on April 1, 1980 at Steamboat 1874 in Austin, Texas, and was broadcast live on KLBJ-FM radio. A 25-year-old Vaughan, still more than three years away from the release of his first studio album, performs with his "Double Trouble" bandmates: Chris Layton, drummer, and Jackie Newhouse, bassist. (Newhouse was replaced by bassist Tommy Shannon in January 1981, who would remain part of Double Trouble until Stevie's death.)

Track listing

1. In The Open (Sonny Thompson/Freddie King) – 5:57
2. Slide Thing (Stevie Ray Vaughan) – 3:18
3. They Call Me Guitar Hurricane (Eddie Jones (Guitar Slim) – 3:06
4. All Your Love I Miss Loving (Otis Rush) – 6:23
5. Tin Pan Alley (Robert Geddins) – 7:40
6. Love Struck Baby (Stevie Ray Vaughan) – 2:56
7. Tell Me (Chester Burnett (Howlin' Wolf)) – 2:48
8. Shake For Me (Willie Dixon) – 4:04
9. Live Another Day (Stevie Ray Vaughan) – 3:49

 

Victor Hugo - The Pity Of The Angels

When an angel of kindness
Saw, doomed to the dark,
Men framed in his likeness,
He sought for a spark--
Stray gem of God's glory
That shines so serene--
And, falling like lark,
To brighten our story,
Pure Pity was seen.  

Jacques Prévert - Quartier Libre

I put my cap in the cage
and went out with the bird on my head
So
one no longer salutes
asked the commanding officer
No
one no longer salutes
replied the bird
Ah good
excuse me I thought one saluted
said the commanding officer
You are fully excused everybody makes mistakes
said the bird.

Arthur Rimbaud - The Drunken Boat

As I was floating down unconcerned Rivers I no longer felt myself steered by the haulers: Gaudy Redskins had taken them for targets Nailing them naked to coloured stakes. I cared nothing for all my crews, Carrying Flemish wheat or English cottons. When, along with my haulers those uproars were done with The Rivers let me sail downstream where I pleased. Into the ferocious tide-rips Last winter, more absorbed than the minds of children, I ran! And the unmoored Peninsulas Never endured more triumphant clamourings The storm made bliss of my sea-borne awakenings. Lighter than a cork, I danced on the waves Which men call eternal rollers of victims, For ten nights, without once missing the foolish eye of the harbor lights! Sweeter than the flesh of sour apples to children, The green water penetrated my pinewood hull And washed me clean of the bluish wine-stains and the splashes of vomit, Carring away both rudder and anchor. And from that time on I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk, Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam, A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down; Where, suddenly dyeing the bluenesses, deliriums And slow rhythms under the gleams of the daylight, Stronger than alcohol, vaster than music Ferment the bitter rednesses of love! I have come to know the skies splitting with lightnings, and the waterspouts And the breakers and currents; I know the evening, And Dawn rising up like a flock of doves, And sometimes I have seen what men have imagined they saw! I have seen the low-hanging sun speckled with mystic horrors. Lighting up long violet coagulations, Like the performers in very-antique dramas Waves rolling back into the distances their shiverings of venetian blinds! I have dreamed of the green night of the dazzled snows The kiss rising slowly to the eyes of the seas, The circulation of undreamed-of saps, And the yellow-blue awakenings of singing phosphorus! I have followed, for whole months on end, the swells Battering the reefs like hysterical herds of cows, Never dreaming that the luminous feet of the Marys Could force back the muzzles of snorting Oceans! I have struck, do you realize, incredible Floridas Where mingle with flowers the eyes of panthers In human skins! Rainbows stretched like bridles Under the seas' horizon, to glaucous herds! I have seen the enormous swamps seething, traps Where a whole leviathan rots in the reeds! Downfalls of waters in the midst of the calm And distances cataracting down into abysses! Glaciers, suns of silver, waves of pearl, skies of red-hot coals! Hideous wrecks at the bottom of brown gulfs Where the giant snakes devoured by vermin Fall from the twisted trees with black odours! I should have liked to show to children those dolphins Of the blue wave, those golden, those singing fishes. - Foam of flowers rocked my driftings And at times ineffable winds would lend me wings. Sometimes, a martyr weary of poles and zones, The sea whose sobs sweetened my rollings Lifted its shadow-flowers with their yellow sucking disks toward me And I hung there like a kneeling woman... Almost an island, tossing on my beaches the brawls And droppings of pale-eyed, clamouring birds, And I was scudding along when across my frayed cordage Drowned men sank backwards into sleep! But now I, a boat lost under the hair of coves, Hurled by the hurricane into the birdless ether, I, whose wreck, dead-drunk and sodden with water, neither Monitor nor Hanse ships would have fished up; Free, smoking, risen from violet fogs, I who bored through the wall of the reddening sky Which bears a sweetmeat good poets find delicious, Lichens of sunlight [mixed] with azure snot, Who ran, speckled with lunula of electricity, A crazy plank, with black sea-horses for escort, When Julys were crushing with cudgel blows Skies of ultramarine into burning funnels; I who trembled, to feel at fifty leagues' distance The groans of Behemoth's rutting, and of the dense Maelstroms Eternal spinner of blue immobilities I long for Europe with it's aged old parapets! I have seen archipelagos of stars! and islands Whose delirious skies are open to sailor: - Do you sleep, are you exiled in those bottomless nights, Million golden birds, O Life Force of the future? - But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter: Sharp love has swollen me up with heady langours. O let my keel split! O let me sink to the bottom! If there is one water in Europe I want, it is the Black cold pool where into the scented twilight A child squatting full of sadness, launches A boat as fragile as a butterfly in May. I can no more, bathed in your langours, O waves, Sail in the wake of the carriers of cottons, Nor undergo the pride of the flags and pennants, Nor pull past the horrible eyes of the hulks.

- As translated by Oliver Bernard: Arthur Rimbaud, Collected Poems (1962).
- Necessaryprose.com: Essay on the Drunken Boat: The Crux of Rimbaud's Poetics. By Eric Mader-Lin.

Fotis Terzakis - Irrationalism, Fundamentalism and Religious Revival: The Colors of the Chess-Board

Abstract: The following article is a brief analysis of the contemporary forms of irrationalism according to its two basic aspects: on the one hand under the form of "new religions", such as esoterism, neopaganism, or the "new age"; on the other hand under the form of a religious revival following the line of the "classic" monotheistic religions, which today often assumes the form of an aggressive religious fundamentalism. Special emphasis is given to the second case. After pointing the historic correlation between the monotheistic idea itself and the formation of the national state, we propose that religious fundamentalism can and must be regarded as a belated nationalism. Furthermore, we point out the various and intersecting expressions of this very phenomenon, starting from European colonialism and its racist ideologies, passing through Zionism, and concluding to Islamic fundamentalism and the Greek "neo-orthodoxy". Finally, we attempt to show the inherent mechanism of all forms of irrationalism, in which the "scientific" ideologies as well as instrumental reason itself must be additionally included.

DOWNLOAD THE ARTICLE

Ashram

01. Fairy Wind | 02. For My Sun 03. Forever at your Mercy 04. Spirit of the Rising Moon | 05. Lucky´s Song 06. Nevermore Sorrow | 07. Horizons 08. Forgive Me | 09. She's Fiddling | 10. Fragile 11. Elisewin | 12. Oceans | 13. I've Lost Myself 14. Sweet Autumn | 15. Silver Eyes

Paul Éluard - Ecstasy

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a child in front of the fire

Smiling vaguely with tears in my eyes

In front of this land where all moves in me

Where mirrors mist where mirrors clear

Reflecting two nude bodies season on season

I’ve so many reasons to lose myself

On this road-less earth under horizon-less skies

Good reasons I ignored yesterday

And I’ll never ever forget

Good keys of gazes keys their own daughters

in front of this land where nature is mine

In front of the fire the first fire

Good mistress reason

Identified star

On earth under sky in and out of my heart

Second bud first green leaf

That the sea covers with sails

And the sun finally coming to us

I am in front of this feminine land

Like a branch in the fire.

ΜΑΝΙΦΕΣΤΟ ΕΞΕΓΕΡΣΗΣ (ΟΔΟΔΕΙΚΤΗΣ ΠΡΟΣ ΕΝΑ ΔΙΑΦΟΡΕΤΙΚΟ ΜΕΛΛΟΝ)

1. ΔΙΑ ΤΟΥ ΠΑΡΟΝΤΟΣ ΚΑΤΑΡΓΕΙΤΑΙ Ο ΠΡΟΗΓΟΥΜΕΝΟΣ ΚΟΣΜΟΣ – Ο ΠΑΛΙΟΣ ΚΟΣΜΟΣ ΘΑΜΜΕΝΟΣ ΚΑΤΩ ΑΠ’ ΤΗ ΣΚΟΝΗ ΤΗΣ ΠΛΗΞΗΣ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΠΛΕΟΝ ΑΝΤΙΚΕΙΜΕΝΟ ΑΡΧΑΙΟΛΟΓΙΚΗΣ ΕΡΕΥΝΑΣ

2. ΕΜΕΙΣ ΟΙ ΑΝΘΡΩΠΟΙ ΤΗΣ ΝΕΑΣ ΕΠΟΧΗΣ ΑΠΕΚΔΥΟΜΕΘΑ ΤΟ ΠΑΛΙΟ ΜΑΣ ΔΕΡΜΑ – ΟΛΟΓΥΜΝΟΙ ΚΙ ΩΡΑΙΟΙ ΩΣ ΟΝΕΙΡΑ ΕΑΡΙΝΑ, ΒΑΔΙΖΟΥΜΕ ΠΡΟΣ AYTO ΠΟΥ ΔΕΝ ΕΧΕΙ ΦΑΝΕΡΩΘΕΙ ΑΚΟΜΑ

3. ΚΥΟΦΟΡΟΥΜΕ ΤΟΥΣ ΕΑΥΤΟΥΣ ΜΑΣ – ΑΥΤΟ ΠΟΥ ΘΑ ΓΕΝΝΗΘΕΙ ΘΑ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΕΚΠΛΗΚΤΙΚΟ

4. ΤΑΞΙΔΕΥΟΥΜΕ ΣΤΟ ΑΠΕΙΡΟ ΔΙΑΣΤΗΜΑ ΜΕΣΑ ΣΤΙΣ ΙΡΙΔΙΖΟΥΣΕΣ ΠΟΜΦΟΛΥΓΕΣ ΤΩΝ ΣΥΝΕΙΔΗΣΕΩΝ ΜΑΣ – ΑΝΑΖΗΤΟΥΜΕ ΕΝΑΝ ΚΑΙΝΟΥΡΓΙΟ ΤΟΠΟ ΝΑ ΑΠΟΙΚΗΣΟΥΜΕ

5. ΠΥΡΠΟΛΟΥΜΕ ΤΙΣ ΓΕΦΥΡΕΣ “ΠΑΡΕΛΘΟΝ” ΚΑΙ “ΜΕΛΛΟΝ” – ΔΕΝ ΜΑΣ ΤΡΟΜΑΖΕΙ ΤΟ ΧΑΟΣ ΚΑΤΩ ΑΠ’ ΤΑ ΠΟΔΙΑ ΜΑΣ – ΕΙΜΑΣΤΕ ΟΙ ΜΕΤΕΩΡΟΙ ΑΓΓΕΛΟΙ ΤΟΥ “ΤΩΡΑ”

6. ΛΕΞΕΙΣ-ΜΟΛΟΤΩΦ ΣΚΑΝΕ ΣΤΑ ΜΥΑΛΑ ΚΑΙ ΠΥΡΠΟΛΟΥΝ ΣΥΝΕΙΔΗΣΕΙΣ – ΠΡΟΣΟΧΗ! ΤΑ ΠΝΕΥΜΑΤΑ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΠΙΟ ΕΥΦΛΕΚΤΑ ΑΠ’ ΤΗ ΒΕΝΖΙΝΗ

7. ΘΡΥΜΜΑΤΙΖΟΥΜΕ ΤΗ ΒΙΤΡΙΝΑ ΤΟΥ ΕΓΩΙΣΜΟΥ – ΚΑΙΜΕ ΚΑΙ ΚΑΤΑΣΤΡΕΦΟΥΜΕ Ο,ΤΙ ΦΥΛΑΚΙΖΕΙ ΤΙΣ ΨΥΧΕΣ ΜΑΣ

8. ΟΙ ΚΡΑΥΓΕΣ ΑΠΟ ΤΑ ΣΤΟΜΑΤΑ ΜΑΣ ΓΙΝΟΝΤΑΙ ΓΙΓΑΝΤΙΑ ΚΛΑΔΙΑ –ΔΕΣΤΕ! ΤΑ ΠΑΙΔΙΑ ΔΕΝΟΥΝ ΣΧΟΙΝΙΑ – ΚΑΝΟΥΝ ΚΟΥΝΙΑ – ΓΕΛΟΥΝ ΚΑΙ ΚΡΕΜΟΥΝ ΕΝΑΝ ΧΟΝΤΡΟ ΤΡΑΠΕΖΙΤΗ

9. ΠΩΣ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΔΥΝΑΤΟΝ Η ΔΙΚΑΙΟΣΥΝΗ ΝΑ ΔΙΚΑΣΕΙ ΤΗΝ ΑΘΩΩΤΗΤΑ; – Η ΑΘΩΩΤΗΤΑ ΑΠΟ ΜΟΝΗ ΤΗΣ ΚΑΤΑΔΙΚΑΖΕΙ ΣΕ ΑΧΡΗΣΤΙΑ ΤΗ ΔΙΚΑΙΟΣΥΝΗ

10. ΟΙ ΝΟΜΟΙ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΦΕΡΕΤΡΑ – Η ΤΑΞΗ ΤΑ ΣΤΑΥΡΩΜΕΝΑ ΧΕΡΙΑ ΤΩΝ ΝΕΚΡΩΝ ΠΑΝΩ ΣΤΟ ΣΤΗΘΟΣ ΤΟΥΣ

11. ΔΕΣΤΕ! – ΤΑ ΔΑΧΤΥΛΑ ΜΑΣ ΕΓΙΝΑΝ ΦΛΟΓΕΣ! ΨΗΛΑΦΟΥΝ ΤΑ ΣΚΟΤΑΔΙΑ

12. ΤΟ ΜΕΛΛΟΝ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΑΓΡΑΦΟ – ΚΑΙ ΣΗΜΕΡΑ ΚΡΑΤΑΜΕ ΕΜΕΙΣ ΤΟ ΣΤΥΛΟ

13. Η “ΕΠΑΝΑΣΤΑΣΗ” ΕΙΝΑΙ ΤΟ ΚΟΡΙΤΣΙ ΠΟΥ ΠΡΟΠΟΡΕΥΕΤΑΙ ΣΤΗ ΔΙΑΔΗΛΩΣΗ – ΞΑΦΝΙΚΑ ΣΧΙΖΕΙ ΤΟ ΦΟΡΕΜΑ ΤΟΥ – ΤΑ ΣΤΗΘΗ ΤΟΥ ΓΙΝΟΝΤΑΙ ΠΕΡΙΣΤΕΡΙΑ ΚΑΙ ΠΕΤΟΥΝ – ΣΤΗ ΘΕΑ ΤΟΥ ΑΙΔΟΙΟΥ ΤΟΥ ΟΛΕΣ ΟΙ ΕΞΟΥΣΙΕΣ ΤΟΥ ΚΟΣΜΟΥ ΥΠΟΧΩΡΟΥΝ ΠΑΝΙΚΟΒΛΗΤΕΣ

14. ΣΥΜΒΟΥΛΗ ΠΡΟΣ ΤΟΥΣ ΣΤΕΝΟΜΥΑΛΟΥΣ: ΠΕΤΑΞΤΕ ΤΑ ΜΥΑΛΑ ΣΑΣ ΣΤΑ ΣΚΟΥΠΙΔΙΑ – ΑΦΗΣΤΕ ΚΕΝΟ ΤΟ ΚΕΦΑΛΙ ΣΑΣ, ΝΑ ’ΡΘΟΥΝ ΤΑ ΧΕΛΙΔΟΝΙΑ ΝΑ ΦΩΛΙΑΣΟΥΝ. ΝΑ ’ΡΘΕΙ ΕΠΙΤΕΛΟΥΣ Η ΑΝΟΙΞΗ ΤΩΝ ΑΙΣΘΗΜΑΤΩΝ!

15. ΓΙΑ ΤΗΝ ΑΠΟΚΑΤΑΣΤΑΣΗ ΤΗΣ ΑΛΗΘΕΙΑΣ: ΔΕΝ ΕΙΜΑΣΤΕ ΜΕΣΑ ΣΤΟΝ ΚΟΣΜΟ – ΑΚΡΙΒΩΣ ΤΟ ΑΝΤΙΘΕΤΟ. Ο ΚΟΣΜΟΣ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΜΕΣΑ ΜΑΣ – ΤΩΡΑ ΣΥΜΒΑΙΝΟΥΝ ΤΑ ΠΑΝΤΑ – ΚΑΙ ΤΑ ΠΑΝΤΑ ΣΥΜΒΑΙΝΟΥΝ ΕΝΤΟΣ ΜΑΣ

16. ΜΕ ΒΟΓΓΗΤΑ, ΣΚΟΤΑΔΙΑ, ΔΑΚΡΥΑ, ΚΡΟΤΟΥΣ, ΚΡΑΥΓΕΣ, ΛΑΜΨΕΙΣ, ΚΑΤΑΣΚΕΥΑΖΟΥΜΕ ΤΗ ΓΛΩΣΣΑ ΣΤΗΝ ΟΠΟΙΑ Θ’ ΑΚΟΥΣΤΕΙ ΑΥΡΙΟ ΤΟ ΠΙΟ ΤΡΥΦΕΡΟ, “Σ’ ΑΓΑΠΩ”

17. ΜΕ ΤΑ ΚΟΥΡΕΛΙΑ ΤΩΝ ΟΥΡΛΙΑΧΤΩΝ ΜΑΣ, Ο ΑΝΕΜΟΣ ΡΑΒΕΙ ΤΟ ΦΟΡΕΜΑ ΤΗΣ ΝΕΑΣ ΕΠΟΧΗΣ

18. ΕΣΕΙΣ ΠΟΥ ΕΧΕΤΕ ΤΑ ΧΡΗΜΑΤΑ ΝΑ ΦΟΒΑΣΤΕ – ΝΑ ΦΟΒΑΣΤΕ ΟΛΟ ΚΑΙ ΠΙΟ ΠΟΛΥ – ΓΙΑΤΙ Ο,ΤΙ ΠΙΟ ΠΟΛΥ ΦΟΒΑΣΤΕ, ΑΥΤΟ ΑΝΑΠΟΤΡΕΠΤΑ ΘΑ ΣΥΜΒΕΙ

19. ΦΟΒΑΣΤΕ ΓΙΑΤΙ ΠΟΤΕ ΔΕΝ ΥΠΗΡΞΑΤΕ – ΕΙΣΤΕ ΕΝΑ ΑΝΟΥΣΙΟ ΟΝΕΙΡΟ – ΜΟΛΙΣ ΞΥΠΝΗΣΟΥΜΕ ΘΑ ΔΙΑΛΥΘΕΙΤΕ ΣΑΝ ΠΡΩΙΝΗ ΟΜΙΧΛΗ – Η ΠΡΑΓΜΑΤΙΚΟΤΗΤΑ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΑΥΤΗ ΠΟΥ ΔΕΝ ΓΕΝΝΗΘΗΚΕ ΑΚΟΜΑ

20. ΘΑ ’ΡΘΕΙ ΜΙΑ ΜΕΡΑ ΠΟΥ ΘΑ ΚΟΙΤΑΖΟΥΜΕ ΤΑ ΧΑΡΤΟΝΟΜΙΣΜΑΤΑ ΚΑΙ ΔΕΝ ΘΑ ΘΥΜΟΜΑΣΤΕ ΣΕ ΤΙ ΜΑΣ ΧΡΗΣΙΜΕΥΑΝ

21. ΓΙΑ ΝΑ ΤΟ ΞΕΚΑΘΑΡΙΣΟΥΜΕ ΑΠΑΞ ΔΙΑ ΠΑΝΤΟΣ: Η ΕΞΟΥΣΙΑ ΔΕΝ ΜΠΟΡΕΙ ΝΑ ΥΠΑΡΞΕΙ ΧΩΡΙΣ ΕΜΑΣ – ΕΜΕΙΣ ΜΠΟΡΟΥΜΕ ΝΑ ΖΗΣΟΥΜΕ ΧΩΡΙΣ ΑΥΤΗΝ (ΚΑΙ ΜΑΛΙΣΤΑ ΚΑΛΥΤΕΡΑ) – Η ΕΞΟΥΣΙΑ ΡΟΥΦΑΕΙ ΤΗΝ ΟΥΣΙΑ ΜΑΣ – ΛΕΗΛΑΤΕΙ ΤΗ ΖΩΗ

22. ΔΟΚΙΜΑΣΤΕ ΤΟ, ΠΕΤΥΧΑΙΝΕΙ! ΕΜΦΑΝΙΣΤΕ ΚΙ ΕΞΑΦΑΝΙΣΤΕ ΤΟΝ ΚΟΣΜΟ ΑΝΟΙΓΟΚΛΕΙΝΟΝΤΑΣ ΤΑ ΒΛΕΦΑΡΑ

23. ΖΩ ΠΟΙΗΤΙΚΑ ΣΗΜΑΙΝΕΙ, ΑΝΑ ΠΑΣΑ ΣΤΙΓΜΗ ΔΗΜΙΟΥΡΓΩ ΚΑΙ ΚΑΤΑΣΤΡΕΦΩ ΚΟΣΜΟΥΣ – Η ΕΠΑΝΑΣΤΑΣΗ Ή ΘΑ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΠΟΙΗΤΙΚΗ, Ή ΔΕΝ ΘΑ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΚΑΘΟΛΟΥ

24. ΔΕΣΤΕ! ΜΕΣΑ ΑΠ’ ΤΟΥΣ ΚΑΠΝΟΥΣ ΤΩΝ ΔΑΚΡΥΓΟΝΩΝ ΚΑΙ ΤΩΝ ΠΥΡΠΟΛΗΜΕΝΩΝ ΚΤΙΡΙΩΝ, Η ΣΕΛΗΝΗ ΔΙΑΒΑΙΝΕΙ ΑΤΑΡΑΧΗ – ΑΦΟΥΓΚΡΑΣΤΕΙΤΕ! ΜΕΣΑ ΑΠ’ ΤΟΥΣ ΚΡΟΤΟΥΣ ΚΑΙ ΤΑ ΣΥΝΘΗΜΑΤΑ, ΜΙΑ ΑΠΟΚΟΣΜΗ ΜΕΛΩΔΙΑ ΑΚΟΥΓΕΤΑΙ

25. ΧΡΟΝΙΑ ΚΟΥΚΟΥΛΩΜΕΝΟΣ ΚΑΤΩ ΑΠ’ ΤΙΣ ΒΡΩΜΙΚΕΣ ΚΟΥΒΕΡΤΕΣ ΤΗΣ ΑΝΙΑΣ, ΔΕΝ ΕΥΡΙΣΚΑ ΛΟΓΟ ΝΑ ΣΗΚΩΘΩ ΑΠ’ ΤΟ ΚΡΕΒΑΤΙ – ΞΑΦΝΙΚΑ ΘΥΜΗΘΗΚΑ ΟΤΙ ΕΙΧΑ ΝΑ ΦΤΙΑΞΩ ΕΝΑΝ ΟΛΟΚΛΗΡΟ ΚΟΣΜΟ ΚΑΙ ΠΕΤΑΧΤΗΚΑ ΟΡΘΙΟΣ

26. ΟΠΟΙΟΣ ΔΕΝ ΚΑΤΑΝΟΕΙ ΤΑ ΠΑΡΑΠΑΝΩ, ΕΧΕΙ ΔΥΣΤΥΧΩΣ ΣΟΒΑΡΟ ΠΡΟΒΛΗΜΑ – ΕΙΝΑΙ ΝΕΚΡΟΣ ΚΑΙ ΦΑΝΤΑΖΕΤΑΙ ΟΤΙ ΖΕΙ

Federico García Lorca - Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint

Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.
I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.
If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,
never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.