A keresés eredménye

Song of the old lovers

Sure, we had some storms,
years of crazy love
a thousand you told me: enough,
a thousand times I went away
 
And every piece of furniture,
in this room empty of a crib,
remembers the lightnings of old fights
 
There was no right choice anymore,
you had lost your warmth,
me, my feverish desire to conquer
 
My love, my sweet, wonderful love
From the clear dawn until the day dies
I love you still, you know, I love you
 
I know all about your magic spells
and you know all about my intimacy
I knew about your lies,
you, about my sad acts of cowardice
 
I know you've had some lovers,
after all, one needs to pass time,
after all, the body needs to rejoice,
 
but it took some talent
to manage to grow old
without growing up
 
My love, my sweet, wonderful love
From the clear dawn until the day dies
I love you still, you know, I love you
 
Time passes and disheartens us
Torments on our path
But, tell me, is there a worse trap
than loving each other monotonously
 
Now, you cry long afterwards,
I despair belatedly
We have no more mysteries
 
We leave less to chance
We come to terms with the earth
but it's the same, sweet war
 
[In French:] My love, my sweet, wonderful love
From the clear dawn until the end of the day
I love you still, you know, I love you
 

The Miracle of Love

In the valley of Scammacca
the carters from time to time
left their dejections
and the blowflies buzzed over
and we went hunting lizards…
The Circum-Aetnean diesel railcar,
the school concerts, the Nabucco,
school will soon be over.
 
As the years are going by
this fever gets into my bones,
though war is raging outside
I feel the miracle of love,
of love
 
And when I meet you in the street
I feel a shock in my heart,
though death is raging outside
the miracle of love does not die
love
 
And when I meet you in the street
I feel a shock in my heart,
though death is raging outside
the miracle of love does not die
love
 
As the years are going by
this fever gets into my bones,
though war is raging outside
I feel the miracle of love,
of love
 

Permanent center of gravity

Versions: #3
A british old lady
with a hat and an umbrella made of rice paper and bamboo cane.
Brave captains
smart macedonian smuggler.
Euclidean Jesuits
dressed as bonzes to enter courts of emperors
of the Mings dinasty.
I seek a permanent center of gravity
that will never make me change my mind about things, about people
I might need...
 
I seek a permanent etc.
 
In Pechino streets in some day in May
we were joking around picking nettles.
I can't stand Russian choruses
I can't stand Russian choruses
music, fake rock, the Italian new wave, the English punk free jazz.
Not even the african black.
 
I seek a permanent etc.
 
I might need...
 
I seek a permanent etc.
 
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The new feeleing

It is a new feeling,
The thing that keeps me in a higher ground:
Passion in my throat,
Eros becomes words.
 
Your strange inhibitions
Are not part of sex:
The legendary desires of Libyan prostitutes,
The pre-hellenistic sense of possession.
Your voice - like the chorus
of Ulysses's sirenes - chains me.
 
And it's awesome to lose myself in this spell.
It's awesome to lose myself in this spell.
 
All the muscles in my body
Are ready to the mating:
They - in the geishas' Japan -
Indulge in love.
 
Your strange inhibitions
triggering the pleasure:
The tantric Shivaism
Of Dionysian style,
The pornographic fight
Of both greeks and Latins,
Your skin - like an oasis
in the desert - enraptures me.
 
And it's awesome to lose myself in this spell.
It's awesome to lose myself in this spell.
 
The legendary desires of Libyan prostitutes,
The pre-hellenistic sense of possession.
Your voice - like the chorus
of Ulysses's sirenes - chains me.
 
And it's awesome to lose myself in this spell.
It's awesome to lose myself in this spell.
 

Inneres Auge

Like a pack of wolves
descending from the plateaus waving
or a swarm of bees
deviously devouring odorous petals
they swing as boulders from
very high mountains in ruins.
 
One says, what's wrong in organizing private parties
with beautiful girls
to cheer primary and state servants?
We did not understand each other
 
And why we should pay
also the extras to the ridge-runners?
what can do laws
where does money only reign?
Justice is nothing more than a public commodity ...
 
With what they would live
charlatans and scammers
if they had no sounding coin to be thrown as a fishing hooks among the people.
 
The horizontal line
pushes us towards the matter
the vertical one towards the spirit.
With closed eyelids
there is a glimpse of it
that with time - and it takes patience
it opens to the inner look:
inneres auge das innere auge 1
The horizontal line moves us towards the matter
the vertical one towards the spirit.
the horizontal line moves us towards the matter
the vertical one towards the spirit.
but when I return to me
on my way to reading and studying
listening to the great past ...
I just need a sonata of Corelli 2
because I wonder of creation!
 

• 1. interior eye, or the third eye
  for the Tibetans, that can see the aura of people
• 2. Arcangelo Corelli, musician and violinist-lived in the '700

Thanks a lot for your attention!

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