del amor y otros demonios

Aqui después de haber leido el blog de mi amiguita que deja una sensación 'Love is the devil' o casi- decidí postear 'there's no greater Gold' de Isobel Campbell- si no le conocen es altamente recomendable, acepto correcciones al texto, que lo apunté de oidas...

Love used to be a stranger to me
Love was so dissapointing
I was waiting for a sign
I was looking for some company
So I took a walk outside
hmmm, what a lucky day
I saw the devil waiting for me
He furnaces(?) green paper
He’d been walking through the earth
Swimming to and fro and down and in
As I took a look away
That’s when I saw your face

Love, there is nothing better than this
Love, think of all the chances we miss
See the people walking by
With their mobile and computers
If they just stood for the time…
Dear, there’s no greater gold

Love, I don’t think I’ll see you again
If [ ] … my friend
When you open up your eyes
Just enough to make me see again
When you stop to take my hand
Ooh it was meant this way

L'Angleterre

Sobre England
escribió Stendhal en 'rojo y negro', donde el personaje central de la obra, Julian -noble de espíritu- está hablando con M. de la Mole -noble de nombre- sobre inglaterra:
M. de La Mole: -Quelle idée amusante m’apportez-vous d’Angleterre ? ...[ ] amusante ou non? reprit il vivement-
-Primo- dit Julien- l’Anglais le plus sage est fou une heure par jour ; il est visité par le démon du suicide, qui est le dieu du pays.
2° L’esprit et le génie perdent vingt-cinq pour cent de leur valeur en débarquant en Angleterre.
3° Rien au monde n’est beau, admirable, attendrissant comme les paysages anglais.

A esto el Marqués de La Mole responde algo sobre los jovenes franceses que desean la guerra...

hier dort und überall

bleib dort und warte auf mich,
du wirst genug finden um deine Nerven zu reizen,
um deine Haare zum stehen zu bringen,
komm nicht, bis ich dich nicht,
auf einer Reise mitgenommen habe- deine und meine.

No quiero salir de mi cueva hoy

Y pasar desapercibido, en este mundo, donde tanta gente cree tener la verdad de su lado- quiero ser fanático de casi nada- sólo de aquellos que no lo son, y del azar-

sobre el vacío

Acaso tener un blog no es una manera más de llenar un vacío?
aunque sean unos miles de bits, parece una vanidad esto de los blogs, una especie de parasitismo social de la red, probablemente haya sitios antiblog...

Ironía
Ayer les explicaba a mis roomis alemanes sobre la IRONIA, forma de humor (tipo francés, pero no solamente) que aqui no comprenden del todo- se trata de hacer un comentario y querer decir lo contrario.

About waiting for the Barbarians-

(This poem by Constantine P. Cavafy's poem (1904), originally in Greek, apparently inspired JM Coatzee for his novel, I saw an Opera based on this recently I highly recommend)

What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?

The barbarians are to arrive today.

Why such inaction in the Senate?
Why do the Senators sit and pass no laws?

Because the barbarians are to arrive today.
What laws can the Senators pass any more?
When the barbarians come they will make the laws.

Why did our emperor wake up so early,
and sits at the greatest gate of the city,
on the throne, solemn, wearing the crown?

Because the barbarians are to arrive today.
And the emperor waits to receive
their chief. Indeed he has prepared
to give him a scroll. Therein he inscribed
many titles and names of honor.

Why have our two consuls and the praetors come out
today in their red, embroidered togas;
why do they wear amethyst-studded bracelets,
and rings with brilliant, glittering emeralds;
why are they carrying costly canes today,
wonderfully carved with silver and gold?

Because the barbarians are to arrive today,
and such things dazzle the barbarians.

Why don't the worthy orators come as always
to make their speeches, to have their say?

Because the barbarians are to arrive today;
and they get bored with eloquence and orations.

Why all of a sudden this unrest
and confusion. (How solemn the faces have become).
Why are the streets and squares clearing quickly,
and all return to their homes, so deep in thought?

Because night is here but the barbarians have not come.
And some people arrived from the borders,
and said that there are no longer any barbarians.

And now what shall become of us without any barbarians?
Those people were some kind of solution.

Sobre las coincidencias…

Todo comienza con Rotterdam, un amigo que vive en M. ha encontrado una plaza en esta ciudad.
Al otro día en Linz una ciudad (un poco) desconocida en Austria, me encuentro frente a frente a un compañero de trabajo de J, ciudad que queda a 800 km al norte!

Regresando a M, en vez de ir a tomar cerveza a la fiesta de octubre (que en realidad empieza en septiembre), voy al cine con D., elegimos una pelicula al azar y resulta ser ‘les soeurs fachées’ que habla de 2 hermanas muy distintas- justo cuando acabo de encontrar a mi hermana en L-A y nos hemos percatado de nuestras diferencias- yo soy de la capital, ella de provincia- etc etc.
De regreso a J, un compañero me dice que ha conocido a alguien en Rotterdam (ver arriba) y resulta que me conoce. Se trata de un viejo compañero de juerga- el A. En seguida me pongo a escribir estas líneas- no vaya a ser que el conjuro de las coincidencias siga... 

East German tells

S. is rather out of her teens, an early 20 year old, she has a chance to go to university these days. They are those citizens, whose important memories from childhood are how much they wanted to have ‘Kinder’ surprise, how cool the cousins from the west were because they had ‘Scout’ backpacks and all the different Barbie dolls. Happiness was just on such small things.

Berlin nights

The sun has stretched itself into a reddish- pink light in the horizon.
It’s a particular city, you can seen the complete sky surrounding you- and barely some trees blocking the view. We are lying in the sand after a volleyball game- and have a cold large beer- everything seems perfect. Especially your eyes, glancing through your hair- mingled with the night sky coming way behind…

I must say- revisited

Some german to honor my host country or to the language of B. Brecht

Darf ich Dich vermissen?
wenn ich nicht mehr richtig weiß wie deine Küssen,
und Deine Hände mich berühren…
Darf ich denken, dass Du nicht denkst,
oder nicht das, was mir was bedeutet.
Soll ich versuchen, nach Dir zu horchen,
wenn Du ruhig bleibst, ausser mal wieder
‚Ich habe keine Zeit…’

Weite und Ferne,
(wie Mond und Sterne),
wie die Nacht und das Licht,
und ich würde immer noch gerne,
wissen wo und wie es bei Dir ist.

absent and present friends

Talking about friends I decided to post this from a song by RHChP...

My friends are so depressed
I feel the question
Of your loneliness
Confide..., 'cause I'll be on your side
You know I will, you know I will

X Girlfriend called me up
Alone and desperate
On the prison phone
They want... to give her 7 years
For being sad

I love all of you
Hurt by the cold
So hard and lonely too
When you don't know yourself

My friends are so distressed
And standing on
The brink of emptiness
No words... I know of to express
This emptiness

Imagine me taught by tragedy
Release is peace
I heard a little girl
And what she said
Was something beautiful
To give... your love
No matter what

Jena afternoon

the sun has been hiding for two days- but I am going south where the big beers are served- holariholara
all my love