luni, 15 martie 2010

The Dark Side of the Moon...



          Albumul meu preferat al Pink Floyd, The Dark Side of the Moon, care de fapt, nu trebuie ascultat ca piese disparate -  trebuie luat ca un intreg, fiindca piesele au continuitate - este un album conceptual al formaţiei, al saselea, lansat pe 24 martie 1973. 

Este primul album Pink Floyd ale cărui versuri îi aparţin în întregime lui Roger Waters.

Albumul ocupă poziţia a cincea în ierarhia celor mai bine vândute albume în întreaga lume. A fost pe prima poziţie în „TOP 200 Billboard”, menţinându-se în top 200 mai mult de 700 de săptămâni, aproximativ 14 ani. 


Speak to Me
(Mason) 1:16

"I've been mad for fucking years, absolutely years, been over the edge for yonks, been working me buns off for bands..."


"I've always been mad, I know I've been mad, like the
most of us...very hard to explain why you're mad, even if you're not mad..."

(Instrumental)


Breathe
(Waters, Gilmour, Wright) 2:44


Breathe, breathe in the air.
Don't be afraid to care.
Leave but don't leave me.
Look around and choose your own ground.


Long you live and high you fly
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be.


Run, rabbit run.
Dig that hole, forget the sun,
And when at last the work is done
Don't sit down it's time to dig another one.


For long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide
And balanced on the biggest wave
You race towards an early grave.


On The Run
(Gilmour, Waters) 3:32

[female announcer, announcing flights at airport, including 'Rome']
"Live for today, gone tomorrow, that's me, HaHaHaaaaaa!"

(Instrumental)



Time
(Mason, Waters, Wright, Gilmour) 7:06


Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.


Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.


So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.


Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say.


Breathe  
(reprise) 7:06


Home, home again.
I like to be here when I can.
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire.
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.






The Great Gig in the Sky
(Wright) 4:44

"And I am not frightened of dying, any time will do, I
don't mind. Why should I be frightened of dying?
There's no reason for it, you've gotta go sometime."

"If you can hear this whispering you are dying."

"I never said I was frightened of dying."

(Instrumental)





Money
(Waters) 6:32

Money, get away.
Get a good job with good pay and you're okay.
Money, it's a gas.
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash.
New car, caviar, four star daydream,
Think I'll buy me a football team.

Money, get back.
I'm all right Jack keep your hands off of my stack.
Money, it's a hit.
Don't give me that do goody good bullshit.
I'm in the high-fidelity first class traveling set
And I think I need a Lear jet.

Money, it's a crime.
Share it fairly but don't take a slice of my pie.
Money, so they say
Is the root of all evil today.
But if you ask for a raise it's no surprise that they're
giving none away.

"HuHuh! I was in the right!"
"Yes, absolutely in the right!"
"I certainly was in the right!"
"You was definitely in the right. That geezer was cruising for a
bruising!"
"Yeah!"
"Why does anyone do anything?"
"I don't know, I was really drunk at the time!"
"I was just telling him, he couldn't get into number 2. He was asking
why he wasn't coming up on freely, after I was yelling and
screaming and telling him why he wasn't coming up on freely.
It came as a heavy blow, but we sorted the matter out"


Us and Them
(Waters, Wright) 7:40


Us, and them
And after all we're only ordinary men.
Me, and you.
God only knows it's noz what we would choose to do.
Forward he cried from the rear
and the front rank died.
And the general sat and the lines on the map
moved from side to side.
Black and blue
And who knows which is which and who is who.
Up and down.
But in the end it's only round and round.
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words
The poster bearer cried.
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside.


"I mean, they're not gunna kill ya, so if you give 'em a quick short,
sharp, shock, they won't do it again. Dig it? I mean he get off
lightly, 'cos I would've given him a thrashing - I only hit him once!
It was only a difference of opinion, but really...I mean good manners
don't cost nothing do they, eh?"


Down and out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about.
With, without.
And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about?
Out of the way, it's a busy day
I've got things on my mind.
For the want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died.





Any Colour You Like
(Gilmour, Mason, Wright) 3:25

(Instrumental)




Brain Damage
(Waters) 3:50


The lunatic is on the grass.
The lunatic is on the grass.
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs.
Got to keep the loonies on the path.


The lunatic is in the hall.
The lunatics are in my hall.
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more.


And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.


The lunatic is in my head.
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'til I'm sane.
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.


And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.


"I can't think of anything to say except...
I think it's marvelous! HaHaHa!"




Eclipse
(Waters) 2:04


All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel.
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save.
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say.
All that you eat
And everyone you meet
All that you slight
And everyone you fight.
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.


"There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it's all dark."













    I am... "The old man died..."




    Us, and Them...
    And after all, we're only ordinary men...
    Me, and you...
    God only knows, it's not what we would choose, to do
    Forward he cried from the rear
    And the front rank died
    The General sat, and the lines on the map
    Moved, from side to side...

    Black, and Blue...
    And who knows which is which, and who is who...
    Up, and Down...
    And in the end, it's only round and round, and round...
    Haven't you heard, it's a battle of words!
    The poster bearer cried
    Listen son, said the man with the gun
    There's room for you inside...

    Down, and Out...
    It can't be helped, but there's a lot of it about...
    With, without
    And who'll deny, it's what the fighting's all about...
    Out of the way, it's a busy day
    I've got things on my mind,
    For want of the price, of tea and a slice
    The old man died.

    joi, 11 martie 2010

    Părere...


    Bătea din aripi îngerul subţire
    în aerul înalt
    văzîndu-l, auzeam
    cum clopotele fulgilor cei de zăpadă
    mi se lipesc de trupul meu, cel geam
    nespart.


                                                    Nichita Stănescu

    Tratat despre cal...Vină valu', să-ţi ia calu'!

    VINĂ VALU', SĂ-ŢI IA CALU'...



    Nichita intrerupe marturisirea pentru o clipa (facuta catre redactorul de la “Viata Romaneasca” in 1979, n.m.), iar apoi continua ca si cum ar scoate cuvintele dintr-o fantana adanca:



    “Ma bateau la cap ca sa pricep, dar cuvintele nu puteau sa-mi intre nici prin nas, nici prin urechi, nici prin gura. Habar n-am cum am reusit sa invat carte. Din aceasta cauza m-am infuriat mai tarziu si am scris o culegere de poezii “Necuvintele”. Furios zic ca poezia nu are nici o legatura cu cuvintele. Desfac un zid ca sa se inteleaga aceasta mai bine : Intr-o calatorie stupida in Franta, cand gazdele m-au intrebat ce as vrea sa vad, am zis ca ma intereseaza Les Beaux, unde in evul mediu erau celebrele judecati ale dragostei. Les Beaux, va spun, este un dinte stricat dintr-o campie stearpa, inconjurata de ciuperci otravite. Mi-am adus aminte de codul dragostei din Les Beaux si de articolul care zice cam asa: indragostitul este palid la fata si refuza sa manance. M-am gandit: Dumnezeule, prin cate grozavii a trebuit sa treaca omenirea! Daca in vremurile de astazi ai incurca-o din cauza unui gand sau pozitii, daca codul din Les Beaux si-ar fi luat avant in Capitalul lui Marx si ar fi cuprins principalele capitole, atunci cu totii am fi fost nevoiti sa purtam masti fiindca am fi putut fi condamnati pentru un zambet sau pentru o lacrima. Iata de ce cuvintele nu au legatura cu poezia. Punct.”



    Ideea metaforica a lui Nichita trezeste nenumarate intrebari. Toti le pun incrucisat ca la o ancheta. Cine este poetul, ce este poezia? Ce nevoie a facut ca natura sa creeze calul si ce se va intampla cu acest animal cand oamenii se vor elibera?



    “Poetul este sluga si rege, zice Nichita Stanescu. Nu putem sa-l confundam cu poezia, ar fi o prostie dupa cum prostie este sa confunzi moasa comunala, care ajuta la nastere, cu insasi fenomenul nasterii.”



    In graba, printre altele, il intrebam: Cum apar poeziile lui? In ce dispozitie sufleteasca, cu ce sperante?



    “Va voi raspunde, dar nu stiu daca am dreptul. In principiu eu nici nu iubesc adevarul ci dragostea, adevarul duce la crima. Ma reintorc la intrebare raspunzand ca slujirea poeziei este durere si numai durere. Iar maretia poeziei se afla in depasirea durerii. Fiecare poet nazuieste spre un nou magnet cu ajutorul caruia sa-si construiasca gandurile, asa cum se aduna piliturile de fier. Ce ingrozitor este cand ti se fura acest magnet, iar piliturile de fier devin nisip intr-o clepsidra! Stimate prieten, oare nu credeti ca rasturnarea clepsidrei este o tragedie?”



    Insistent, putin strengareste dar cu multa seriozitate, Goran Babici intreaba de cai, de soarta calului in civilizatia umana.



    “Calul nu se mai poate elibera in vecii vecilor, amin! zice Nichita. Calul este in aceeasi masura instrainat, ca si omul. Sclavul niciodata nu se poate elibera din sclavie, numai fiindca se mira ca in fata lui este viitorul.”



    Mai departe Nichita afirma: “Calul este forma degenerata a omului. Calul este, adauga el, un om frumos care, in loc de doua maini, mai are doua picioare. El admite sa fie calarit de alt om care inca n-a cazut in starea calului.”



    Neobservand ca improvizatiile lui trezesc o veselie fara granita, Nichita se adreseaza lui Goran:



    “Intrebarea ta, prietene, este pusa unui tanchist”.



    Dar cum si de ce s-a nascut calul? – navaleste Goran.



    “S-a nascut dintr-o bunatate a naturii. Si de aceea n-a admis sa i se nimiceasca neamul si atata a tinut la mersul sau in patru picioare, incat a facut o serie de compromisuri. Knox n-ar fi facut aceste compromisuri."


    Cine e Knox? – intreaba toti.

    “Nu stiu”, raspunde Nichita.

    Atunci Stevan Tontici povesteste legenda facerii lumii. La capatul lucrarii, nemultumit de ceea ce a creat, Dumnezeu a facut un plan tainic si a creat calul. Intr-atata l-a fermecat noua faptura incat, i s-a parut ca n-ar mai putea sa faca nimic vrednic dupa aceea. Si-a ridicat mainile si a decis: sa se creeze calul!

    miercuri, 10 martie 2010

    PANA DE SOARE


    S-a dus pe apa sîmbetei

    trupul meu de trestie, de adolescent

    S-a dus şi plăcutul miros de sudoare

    de tînără piele jegoasă,

    şi gîngăveala în faţa oamenilor

    şi puritatea nespălată

    a ochilor albaştrii,

    şi timiditatea

    de a avea imaginaţie

    iar nu viziuni...



    Un timp încă

    îmi tîram imaginea

    ca pe un cal mort, de căpăstru,

    pe şosea, printre maşini



    Un timp încă

    mai mîngîiam dragonul

    ca pe un ou, de

    privighetoare...



    Un timp numai

    am mai crezut tîmp

    de curcubeu, că este un suflet

    al ploii

    iar nu un compromis

    jalnic şi iluzoriu

    cum mă izbeşte acum FIIND.



    Acum, cu mare zarvă

    mă mut în noul meu trup rotund



    Mobila veche,

    abia dacă-mi ocupă

    interiorul unui ventricol



    Mă cutremur de întîmplare,

    mai întîi scîrbit

    şi mai apoi

    din ce în ce mai sedus

    de spaţiul mai sincer

    şi mai urît

    al noii mele locuinţe.



    Spun vacii sacre: Doamnă,-

    nu mai sunteţi de admirare

    ci, de mîncare



    Spun razei stelare: Dragă, -

    degeaba te văd

    daca eşti numai gîtul lung

    al unei stele

    A tăia girafa

    este uşor şi inutil



    De bună seamă simt

    un oarecare cutremur

    de mutare

    în ceea ce se întîmplă cu mine!



    Dar mărturisesc, acum

    că de îndată ce

    trage-voi un somn bun

    şi ca lumea,

    trezindu-mă proaspăt,

    nou-nouţ voi fi,

    bun pentru alte visuri

    şi pentru altă visare.



    de NICHITA STĂNESCU (Poeme în facsimil)

    "Va să zică 21 de grame!"



    21 grame de suflet

    de NICHITA STĂNESCU
                                    din textele comunicate de sotia poetului, Dora Stănescu

    I

    Cercetătorul suedez, medicul Nills Jakobson, a avut recent lugubra idee de a cîntări o serie de muribunzi în momentul fatal. El a constatat pe macabrele indicatoare ale cîntarului său că, indiferent de sex sau de vîrstă, trupul uman pierde invariabil 21 de grame în clipa morţii. În conferinţa de presă organizată, Nills Jakobson a declarat că aceasta este greutatea sufletului.



    II

    Va să zică 21 de grame!



    III

    Începutul unui eseu rămas neterminat...