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Gaspard de la nuit - http://allthingsgo.us/Richard_Walker_Live_at_Capp_St__Track__6_64kb.mp3
Ondine from Gaspard de la Nuit by Maurice Ravel. To play, doubleclick black arrow at left & wait a few seconds... black block to stop.
ONDINE
Translated by Michael Benedikt
I fell asleep, and thought I heard ere long A harmony, subtle and enchanting; And close beside me a gentle murmuring So tender and sad it can silence song. Ch. Brugnot--The Two Sylphs
"Listen!--Listen!--it's me down here, Ondine, splashing all these droplets against your casement windowpanes so that they echo, here in the dim, regretful moonlight; and up there, high above us in her black silk dress, is the chateau's lady upon her balcony, gazing out at this beautiful starry night and at my lovely, sleeping lake.
"Each ripple that you see is a water-sprite, swimming in the flowing currents; each current of each stream winds path-like towards my palace; and my palace, too, is a liquid domain, located well beneath the lake-waters, in the triangle of fire, and earth, and air.
"Listen!--Listen!--my father stirs the croaking stream with a green birch branch, and my sisters with their foam-flecked arms embrace entire islands of iris, water-lilies, and glistening stands of grass; or, giggling, make mock of the ancient, bearded willow, as he bends his back and goes on fishing."
And when her softly murmured song was done, she begged me outright to slip her ring on my finger, so as to become an Ondine's husband; and to return with her to her palace, there to become king of the lakes.
And when I told her I loved a mortal woman, she pouted as if vexed; then shed a teardrop or two--but finally burst out into laughter, to dissolve then like radiant raindrops, streaming down the length of my blue-black windows....
The Gallows from Gaspard de la Nuit by Maurice Ravel
THE GALLOWS
Translated by Michael Benedikt What's that up there, still stirring on the gallows?--Faust
Ah! What's this I hear now, might it perhaps be the cold north wind whining, or a hanged man sighing his last sighs atop the gallowstree?
Might it perhaps be some cricket singing, ensconced within the carpet of mosses and ground-ivies that so mercifully enfold the forest floor?
Might it perhaps be some fly in its flight, hunting down its prey and tooting its tiny horn into ears otherwise gone deaf to the sound of triumphant trumpet-calls?
Might it perhaps be some beetle in its wayward, erratic flight, plucking a single, bloodstained hair-strand from out of that dead bald skull?
Or might it perhaps be some spider, weaving from a half-measure of muslin a long tie for his strangled neck?
No: it's a bell slowly tolling from the walls of some distant city beneath the horizon; and a hanged man's corpse, swinging back and forth, reddened by rays of the setting sun....
Scarbo from Gaspard de la Nuit by Maurice Ravel
SCARBO
Translated by Michael Benedikt He searched under the bed, looked up the chimney, scoured the cupboard-- nobody! He just couldn't figure out how he'd gotten in or out. E.T.A. Hoffmann--Nocturnal Tales.
Oh! How many times have I seen and heard Scarbo, with the moon shining bright in the midnight sky like a silver shield on an azure banner studded with golden bees!
How often have I heard the vibrations of his laughter, buzzing somewhere in the shadows of my bedroom, and the scratching of his nails raking down the length of the silk curtains around my bed!
How often have I seen him descending from the ceiling, then pirouetting on one leg and spinning around in my room--like a spindle flung out from some witch's distaff!
Did I think he'd vanished? Between me and moon that dwarf would loom, like a Gothic cathedral's belfry, with a golden bell atop his pointed cap!
But soon his body turned blue, and as transparent as wax dripping down a candle and with his face turning pale as a candle-end--suddenly he'd be gone.
Ne me quitte pas
Don’t leave me now We must just forget All we can forget All we did till now Let’s forget the cost Of the breath we’ve spent Saying words unmeant And the times we’ve lost Hours that must destroy Never knowing why Everything must die At the heart of joy
Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now I’ll bring back to you
The clear pearls of rain From a distant domain Where rain never fell And though I grow old I’ll keep mining the ground To deck you around In sunlight and gold I’ll build you a desmene Where love’s everything Where love is the king And you are the queen
Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now
For you I’ll invent Words and what they meant Only you will know Tales of lovers who Fell apart and then Fell in love again Since their hearts stayed true There’s a story too That I can confide Of that king who died From not meeting you
Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now
And often it’s true That flames spill anew From ancient volcanos We thought were too old When all’s said and done Scorched fields of defeat Could give us more wheat Than the fine April sun And when evening is nigh With flames overhead The black and the red Aren’t they joined in the sky?
Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now Don’t leave me now
I will cry no more I will talk no more Hide myself somehow And I’ll see your smile And I’ll see you dance And I’ll hear you sing Hear your laughter ring Let me be for you The shadow of your shadow The shadow of your hand The dog at your command
Ne me quitte pas Il faut oublier Tout peut s'oublier Qui s'enfuit déjà Oublier le temps Des malentendus Et le temps perdu A savoir comment Oublier ces heures Qui tuaient parfois A coups de pourquoi Le coeur du bonheur
Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas
Moi je t'offrirai Des perles de pluie Venues de pays Oþ il ne pleut pas Je creuserai la terre Jusqu'après ma mort Pour couvrir ton corps D'or et de lumière Je ferai un domaine Oþ l'amour sera roi Oþ l'amour sera loi Oþ tu seras reine
Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas
Je t'inventerai Des mots insensés Que tu comprendras Je te parlerai De ces amants-là Qui ont vu deux fois Leurs coeurs s'embraser Je te raconterai L'histoire de ce roi Mort de n'avoir pas Pu te rencontrer
Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas
On a vu souvent Rejaillir le feu De l'ancien volcan Qu'on croyait trop vieux Il est para¡±t-il Des terres brulées Donnant plus de blé Qu'un meilleur avril Et quand vient le soir Pour qu'un ciel flamboie Le rouge et le noir Ne s'épousent-ils pas
Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas
Ne me quitte pas Je ne vais plus pleurer Je ne vais plus parler Je me cacherai là A te regarder Danser et sourire Et à t'écouter Chanter et puis rire Laisse-moi devenir L'ombre de ton ombre L'ombre de ta main L'ombre de ton chien
Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas Ne me quitte pas
Processing is an open source programming language and environment for people who want to program images, animation, and interactions. It is used by students, artists, designers, researchers, and hobbyists for learning, prototyping, and production. It is created to teach fundamentals of computer programming within a visual context and to serve as a software sketchbook and professional production tool. Processing is developed by artists and designers as an alternative to proprietary software tools in the same domain.
Processing is free to download and available for GNU/Linux, Mac OS X, and Windows. Please help to release the next version!
Processing is an open project initiated by Ben Fry and Casey Reas. It evolved from ideas explored in the Aesthetics and Computation Group at the MIT Media Lab.
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26 Aug 2007 (updated 26 Aug 2007 at 12:25 UTC) »
I wonder how y'all feel about these issues
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wow! nothing beats discovering a good neighbor - badvo
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