Ah, pure pussycat poetry!
Tis, well i'm off to bed, nice meowing with ya msolga....g'night!
Night night, standup, pigsy, thurman ...... sleep tight.
John Lennon singing:
Well if you ever
change your mind ..
About leaving
leaving me behind .....
I gave you money...
Jewelry tooo....
"I'm a soulllll man.
doo doo dee doo dum skeedop dee dwow
I'm a souul ma-an.
dum boo doo doop
I'm a soulllll man.
dabba dee doo skizzle dee doo
I'm a souuul ma-an.
dum duh da dum.
Somethin somethin
skizzledizzledizzle dwap
and something else
skidoop badap
somethin sound like this
dum bum bum
and kinda like this
doopdeedoop"
Listen
I was brought up on a side street
I learned how to love before I could eat
I was edumacated from good stock
When I start lovin' I just can't stop
particle man- They might be giants with for added fun, How soon is now- the smiths, and Around the World-atc
I don't just get one song I get 3
confutatis maledietis, flammis acribus addietis, maledietis, flammis acribus addictis.
voca, voca me, voca me cum benedictis!
confutatis maledictis, flammis acribus addictis, confutatis maledictis, maledictis, flammis a cribus addictis.
voca, voca me cum benedictis, cum benedictis, voca me, voca me, voca me cum benedictis!
oro supplex et acclinis,
cor contritum quasieinis.
Gerecuram, gerecuram meifinis!
Mozart's Sequentia's confutatis in his Requiem Mass is just sublime. The chorus sings "confutatis maledietis, flammis acribus addietis, maledietis, flammis acribus addictis" (When the accursed have been confounded And given over to the bitter flames), in an awful and wrathful fugue; and then in contrast, the altos and sopranos sing "voca, voca me, voca me cum benedictis!" (Call me with the blessed), it's like the angelic voices of supplicants begging for their souls. "Oro supplex et acclinis, Cor contritum quasieinis. Gerecuram, gerecuram meifinis!" (I pray in supplication on my knees. My heart contrite as the dust, Safeguard my fate.)
What a terrible religion that inspired such a resplendent rendition of this liturgy.
panzade wrote:I gave you money...
Jewelry tooo....
Silly possum! :wink: And the romance went kaput anyway! (Gosh, those were deep lyrics, panzade! Amazing what a good rendition can do!)
Infra,
I don't know what it is, but there's something about a chorus of voices in latin, like (don't laugh) the song from SW: Episode 1, Duel of the Fates, and the music from FF7 during the battle with Sephiroth:
Estuans interius ira vehementi
Estuans interius ira vehementi
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Estuans interius ira vehementi
Estuans interius ira vehementi
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Sors immanis, et inanis
Sors immanis, et inanis
Estuans interius ira vehementi
Estuans interius ira vehementi
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Veni, veni, venias,
Ne me mori facias
Veni, veni, venias,
Ne me mori facias
Veni, veni, venias,
Ne me mori facias
Veni, veni, venias,
Ne me mori facias
Veni, veni, venias, Gloriosa
Ne me mori facias Generosa
Veni, veni, venias, Gloriosa
Ne me mori facias Generosa
Veni, veni, venias, Gloriosa
Ne me mori facias Generosa
Veni, veni, venias, Gloriosa
Ne me mori facias Generosa
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Burning inside with violent anger
Burning inside with violent anger
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Burning inside with violent anger
Burning inside with violent anger
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Fate, monsterous and empty
Fate, monsterous and empty
Burning inside with violent anger
Burning inside with violent anger
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Come, come, oh come,
do not let me die
Come, come, oh come,
do not let me die
Come, come, oh come,
do not let me die
Come, come, oh come,
do not let me die
Come, come, oh come, (glorious)
do not let me die (noble)
Come, come, oh come, (glorious)
do not let me die (noble)
Come, come, oh come, (glorious)
do not let me die (noble)
Come, come, oh come, (glorious)
do not let me die (noble)
Sephiroth
Sephiroth
Yeah, Square has a way with names and mythological symbolism. Can't escape Sefirot coming from Jen(h)ova. Stories, gameplay. Oh no. Now I'm drooling again. Curse thee Squaresoft! Curse thee!
One Winged Angel..
Very cool song
I'm a Beaver!
You're a Beaver!
We are Beavers all,
And when we get together, we do the beaver call!
e to the u, du dx, e to the x, dx;
cosine, secant, tangent, sine, 3.14159;
integral, radical, mu, dv;
slipstick, sliderule, MIT!
Go........ Tech!
For my Irish friends.
I was thinking about this today, because the chord changes are sooooo beautiful when played on piano.
and, there is a place in Virginia called Afton mountain....................
Sweet Afton lyrics
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stock-dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forebear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring hills,
Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills,
There daily I wander as noon rises high
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;
There oft as mild Ev'ning weeps over the lea
The sweet scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As gathering sweet flow'rets she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays,
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Letty!
Lovely to hear your beautiful voice again!
Sing on!
Olga, That song just popped into my head out of nowhere.
I think it came from a newbie who cited music as being the universal language.(from Australia, incidentally)
and then, in exchange with princesspuple from Hawaii, things just started working again..
Don't you just love the line:
How wanton the waters her snowy feet lave?
Lovely! <sigh>
Letty's singing again, folks! All is right in the world!
I heard this on ABC radio during a break from talk & politics & it stopped me in my tracks. How beautiful, how wistful & moving ..... I think it'll stay with me for the rest of day, now ....
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
~
Artist: Susannah McCorkle
Song: The Waters of March
(Thanks to panzade for sending me Susannah's dual-language version of this Antonio Carlos Jobim classic. I believe the translation is hers, and I'm not terribly surprised she threw herself off of a balcony. Beautiful song though.)
A stick a stone
it's the end of the road,
it's the rest of the stump
it's a little alone
it's a sliver of glass,
it is life, it's the sun,
it is night ,it is death,
it's a trap, it's a gun.
the oak when it blooms,
a fox in the brush,
the knot in the wood,
the song of the thrush.
the wood of the wind,
a cliff, a fall,
a scratch, a lump,
it is nothing at all.
it's the wind blowing free.
it's the end of a slope.
it's a beam, it's a void,
it's a hunch, it's a hope.
and the riverbank talks.
of the water of march
it's the end of the strain,
it's the joy in your heart.
the foot, the ground,
the flesh, the bone,
the beat of the road,
a slingshot stone.
a fish, a flash,
a silvery glow,
a fight, a bet,
the range of the bow.
the bed of the well,
the end of the line,
the dismay in the face,
it's a loss, it's a find.
a spear, a spike,
a point, a nail,
a drip, a drop,
the end of the tale.
a truckload of bricks,
in the soft morning light,
the shot of a gun,
in the dead of the night.
a mile, a must,
a thrust, a bump.
it's a girl, it's a rhyme.
it's the cold, it's the mumps.
the plan of the house,
the body in bed,
the car that got stuck,
it's the mud, it's the mud.
a float, a drift,
a flight, a wing,
ahawk, a quail,
the promise of spring.
and the riverbanks talks.
of the waters of march.
it's the promise of life,
it's the joy in your heart,
a snake, a stick,
it is john, it is joe,
it's a thorn in your hand,
and a cut on your toe.
a point, a grain,
a bee, a bite,
a blink, a buzzard,
the sudden stroke of night.
a pin, a needle,
a sting, a pain,
a snail, a riddle,
a weep, a stain.
a pass in the mountains.
a horse, a mule,
in the distance the shelves.
rode three shadows of blue.
and the riverbank talks
of the promise of life
in your heart, in your heart
a stick, a stone,
the end of the load,
the rest of the stump,
a lonesome road.
a sliver of glass,
a life, the sun,
a night, a death,
the end of the run
and the riverbank talks
of the waters of march
it's the end of all strain
it's the joy in your heart
