Lo que el ojo no ve, pero la cámara sí (I)

Mi abuela se quejaba "¿porqué me tuvo que dar Dios nariz y tener que oler tanta porquería?". Si levantara la cabeza y se percatase de lo que tenemos que ver por tener ojos...

;-)

Música: Le Mariage (B.S.O. Cyrano de Bergerac) - Jean-Claude Petit

Violin Concerto

A violin concerto is a concerto for solo violin (occasionally, two or more violins) and instrumental ensemble, customarily orchestra. Such works have been written from the Baroque period, when the solo concerto form was first developed, up through the present day.

Wikipedia dixit.

Música: W.A. Mozart - Violin Concerto No. 3 in G major, K216 - Rondeau Allegro

Gestos (II)

Pero si lo que se desea es asegurar a toda costa la bonanza económica de los contrayentes, lo mejor es lanzar objetos de mayor contundencia que el arroz, (macarrones, alubias, macarrones y alubias...) directamente a la cara en la esperanza de acertar en los ojos y dejarles ciegos, lo que les garantizaría un puesto vitalicio en la ONCE.

Música: Muy crueles bozes dan (villancico anónimo). Jordi Savall

Gestos... (I)

Qué mejor manera de desear prosperidad a los recién casados que lanzándoles arroz a la salida de la iglesia. ¿Y si además se les quiere desear buena salud, y a la vez fomentar el comercio justo, todo en un mismo gesto? ¡¡¡Arroz integral ecuatoriano, y dejémonos de tonterías!!!

;-)

Música: J.S. Bach - Concerto for two Violins And Orchestra No.3 in d minor, Vivace BWV 1043

The End

And in the end

The love you take

Is equal to the love

You make

© The Beatles

A cidade e os campos

Longe das aldeias, longe das casas

Ouvimos cantar todas as fontes

E na solidão dos velhos montes

Beijamos as águas dos ribeiros

Mas de tudo já esqueceste

Neste mundo tudo muda

Agora estou triste e sozinho

Nesta cidade escura e fria

Onde a vida é uma agonia

Minha vida

Vida

© Madredeus

Son cuatro días

Duerme la ciudad y en un local oscuro junto al mar
está tocando un músico de jazz.
Miras hacia mí y en tus ojos cansados puedo ver
que hay un nombre escrito de mujer.
De su guitarra se van notas de fuego;
los acordes de cristal, hacia la eternidad.
Viejas canciones de amor, viejos poemas.
Entre el humo y el alcohol, la noche suena a jazz.

Duerme la ciudad y una muchacha negra entra en el bar.
Parece borracha -a ver quién no lo está-.
Duerme la ciudad y una muchacha negra entra en el bar

Grita que los blancos huelen mal.
Años luz de soledad. Recuérdame cuando me vaya.
Besa el mar la arena gris y en la ciudad la noche canta.
Son cuatro días. La noche canta.
Sentado en un rincón mirando a dos gatos retozar.
Triste estampa ser rey de la creación,
mientras toca un músico de jazz.
De su guitarra se van notas de fuego;
los acordes de cristal, hacia la eternidad.
Viejas canciones de amor, viejos poemas.
Entre el humo y el alcohol, la noche suena a jazz.
Años luz de soledad. Recuérdame cuando me vaya.
Besa el mar la arena gris y en la ciudad la noche canta.
Son cuatro días. La noche canta...

© El último de la fila

Of a summer morn'

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

Henry David Thoreau dixit
Música © Nightnoise

Inside looking out

To touch the sky
A dreamer must be
Someone who has more imagination than me

To reach the stars
A dreamer must fly
Somehow he must live more of a lifetime than I
For sands of time won't wait
And it may be too late

Now is the hour and the moment
Don't let the chance go by
Your ship is sailing with the high tide
And all your dreams are on the inside

On the inside looking out, on the inside looking out
Looking out, looking out, looking out

To change the world
A dreamer must be
Someone who has more determination than me

To free his soul
A dreamer must fly
Somewhere he must find a better reason than I
The hands of time won't wait
And we may be too late

Now is the hour and the moment
Don't let a day pass by
Your ship is sailing with the high tide
You could be standing on the inside
On the inside looking out, on the inside looking out
On the inside looking out, on the inside looking out
Looking out, looking out, looking out

© The Alan Parsons Project

What it is?

The drinking dens are spilling out
There's staggering in the square
There's lads and lasses falling about
And a crackling in the air
Down around the dungeon doors
The shelters in the queues
Everybody's looking for
Somebody's arms to fall into
And it's what it is
It's what it is now

There's frost on the graves and the monuments
But the taverns are warm in town
People curse the government
And shovel hot food down
The lights are out in city hall
The castle and the keep
The moon shines down upon it all
The legless and asleep

And it's cold on a tollgate
With the wagons creeping through
Cold on a tollgate
God knows what I could do with you
And it’s what it is
It's what it is now

The garrison sleeps and the citadel
With the ghosts and the ancient stones
High up on the parapet
A Scottish piper stands alone
And high on the wind
The highland drums begin to roll
And something from the past just comes
And stares into my soul

And it's cold on a tollgate
Where the Caledonian blues
Cold on a tollgate
God knows what I could do with you
And it’s what it is
It's what it is now
What it is
It's what it is now

There's a chink of light
There's a burning wick
There's a lantern in the tower
Wee Willie Winkie with a candlestick
Still writing songs in the wee wee hours
On Charlotte Street I take
A walking stick from my hotel
The ghost of Dirty Dick
Is still in search of Little Nell
And it's what it is
It's what it is now
Oh it's what it is
What it is now

© Mark Knopfler

Body & Soul

“Salary is no object: I want only enough to keep body and soul apart.”

Dorothy Parker

Music © Glenn Miller

Lullaby

Calla mi vida,
no hay que llorar,
duerme y sueña feliz.

Siempre tú debes

mi arrullo llevar,
así yo estaré junto a ti.

Nana tradicional

Música © George Gershwin

Sweet little mistery

My love has taken a tumble
Oh, but I’m still standing
You’re such a natural, sing,
That’s what you are

Say I wouldn’t steer you wrong now baby
I wouldn’t steer you wrong

It’s just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try,
It’s just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try,

Didn’t I come resisting this sight of wonder?
Didn’t I come insisting the higher decision?
Didn’t I come resisting this sight of wonder?
To your life

Say I wouldn’t steer you wrong now baby
I wouldn’t steer you wrong

It’s just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try,
It’s just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try,

Oh, just think of the magic
Don’t think it is tragic,
Just think of the magic

Come on listen

My love has taken a tumble
My love has taken a tumble
My love has taken a tumble
But I’m still standing

It’s just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try,
It’s just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try

© Wet Wet Wet

Moss garden

What is Life?

Resembles Life what once was held of Light,
Too ample in itself for human sight ?
An absolute Self--an element ungrounded—
All, that we see, all colours of all shade
By encroach of darkness made ?—
Is very life by consciousness unbounded ?
And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath,
A war-embrace of wrestling Life and Death ?

Texto © Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Música © David Bowie & Brian Eno

El milagro

Muere lentamente quien se transforma en esclavo del hábito, repitiendo todos los días los mismos trayectos, quien no cambia de marca, no arriesga vestir un color nuevo y no le habla a quien no conoce.

Muere lentamente quien hace de la televisión su gurú.

Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión, quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las "íes" a un remolino de emociones, justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos, sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.

Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo, quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño, quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.

Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee, quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en sí mismo.

Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar.

Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte o de la lluvia incesante.

Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce o no respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.

Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar.

Solamente la ardiente paciencia hará que conquistemos una espléndida felicidad.

Texto © Pablo Neruda

Música © Lito Vitale

Lift

Times when I just can't
Bring myself to say it loud
'Fraid that what I'll say comes out somehow awry

That is when it seems
We move in circles day to day
Twist the drama of the play to get us by

And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear
Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on
Do we need debate
When it seems too late
Like I bleed but wait
Like nothing's wrong

You lift my spirit, take me higher, make me fly,
Touch the moon up in the sky, when you are mine
You lift me higher, take my spirit, make it fly,
Where all new wonders will appear

Like the other day
I thought you won't be coming back
I came to realize my lackluster dreams

And among the schemes
And all the tricks we try to play
Only dreams will hold their sway and defy

When it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear
Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on
Do we need debate
When it seems too late
Like I bleed but wait
Like nothing's wrong

You lift my spirit, take me higher, make me fly,
Touch the moon up in the sky, when you are mine
You lift me higher, take my spirit, make it fly,
Where all new wonders will appear

© Poets of the fall

The sun is burning

The sun is burning in the sky
Strands of clouds go slowly drifting by
In the park the lazy bees
Are joining in the flowers, among the trees
And the sun burns in the sky

Now the sun is in the west
Little kids go home to take their rest
And the couples in the park
Are holding hands and waiting for the dark
And the sun is in the west

Now the sun is sinking low
Children playing know it's time to go
High above a spot appears
A little blossom blooms and then draws near
And the sun is sinking low

Now the sun has come to earth
Shrouded in a mushroom cloud of death
Death comes in a blinding flash
Of hellish heat and leaves a smear of ash
And the sun has come to earth

Now the sun has disappeared
All is darkness, anger, pain and fear
Twisted, sightless wrecks of men
Go groping on their knees and cry in pain
And the sun has disappeared

© Simon & Garfunkel

The rise and fall

Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,
Superstar you finally made it,
But once your picture becomes tainted,
It's what they call,
The rise and fall

I always said that I was gonna make it,
Now it's plain for everyone to see,
But this game I'm in don't take no prisoners,
Just casualties,
I know that everything is gonna change,
Even the friends I knew before may go,
But this dream is the life I've been searching for,
Started believing that I was the greatest,
My life was never gonna be the same,
Cause with the money came a different status,
That's when things change,
Now I'm too concerned with all the things I own,
Blinded by all the pretty girls I see,
I'm beginning to lose my integrity

Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,
Superstar you finally made it,
But once your picture becomes tainted,
It's what they call,
The rise and fall

I never used to be a troublemaker,
Now I don't even wanna please the fans,
No autographs,
No interviews,
No pictures,
And less demands,
Given advice that was clearly wrong,
The type that seems to make me feel so right,
But some things you may find can take over your life,
Burnt all my bridges now I've run out of places,
And there's nowhere left for me to turn,
Been caught in comprimising situations,
I should have learnt,
From all those times I didn't walk away,
When I knew that it was best to go,
Is it too late to show you the shape of my heart,

Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,
Superstar you finally made it,
But once your picture becomes tainted,
It's what they call,
The rise and fall

Now I know,
I made mistakes,
Think I don't care,
But you don't realise what this means to me,
So let me have,
Just one more chance,
I'm not the man I used to be,
Used to be

Sometimes in life you feel the fight is over,
And it seems as though the writings on the wall,
Superstar you finally made it,
But once your picture becomes tainted,
It's what they call,
The rise and fall

© Craig David & Sting

More than a feeling

I looked out this morning and the sun was gone
Turned on some music to start my day
I lost myself in a familiar song
I closed my eyes and I slipped away

It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

So many people have come and gone
Their faces fade as the years go by
Yet I still recall as I wander on
As clear as the sun in the summer sky

It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

When I'm tired and thinking cold
I hide in my music, forget the day
And dream of a girl I used to know
I closed my eyes and she slipped away
She slipped away, she slipped away

It's more than a feeling, when I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
'till I see Marianne walk away
I see my Marianne walkin' away

© Boston

Nostalgia

Con la vista sobre el mar

Busca entre las olas una señal

Algo que le ayude a olvidar la verdad

Toda una vida de lágrimas

Cede a la locura y luego calla

Por amor a un día

Que jamás volverá

Cuando la rosa muera

Calmará sus ansias en letras vanas

Por amor a un día

Que jamás volverá

© Stream of passion