es sangen die Vöglein so selig im LenzsalimondoApril 19 2006, 13:28:51 UTC
Heh. I dunno, does this Nietzsche cat swing? If he's not danceable, they can both wait six or seven months, until the world is getting dark again, there's not much else to do and the world turns to these smokier fuels for awhile.
Until then it swan boats come swan boating time and the birds are singing in the sun. That rare bird there, hark! What says its song? Spear and magic helmet?
Die Braut gewinnt, Brünnhilde erweckt ein Feiger nie: nur wer das Fürchten nicht kennt!
quelle guerre?salimondoApril 19 2006, 18:52:28 UTC
Si tu tiens la voie de l’intelligence pour supérieure à celle de l’action intéressée, ô Janârdana, ô Késhava, pourquoi m’inciter à cette horrible bataille?
Re: the banana peel gaglhasa7April 19 2006, 20:27:05 UTC
Whereto answering, the sea, Delaying not, hurrying not, Whisper’d me through the night, and very plainly before day-break, Lisp’d to me the low and delicious word DEATH; And again Death-ever Death, Death, Death, Hissing melodious, neither like the bird, nor like my arous’d child’s heart, But edging near, as privately for me, rustling at my feet, Creeping thence steadily up to my ears, and laving me softly all over, Death, Death, Death, Death, Death.
the motion of the ocean(ick feeling)salimondoApril 19 2006, 20:44:10 UTC
It's that exact shanta rasa dimension to Wagner and all of this I'm seasick of: the Robert Wilson abstractions, the tidal pull to silence sinking down among the dead things. There's a season for that.
Adbhuta rasa and the rest, that's something else. The melodious hissing more like the bird and my arous'd child's heart. In their season!
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Until then it swan boats come swan boating time and the birds are singing in the sun. That rare bird there, hark! What says its song? Spear and magic helmet?
Die Braut gewinnt,
Brünnhilde erweckt
ein Feiger nie:
nur wer das Fürchten nicht kennt!
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weisestes Weib,
sage mir nun:
wie besiegt die Sorge der Gott?
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erlösende Weltentat!
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jatu tisthaty akarma-krt
karyate hy avasah karma
sarvah prakriti-jair gunaih
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Delaying not, hurrying not,
Whisper’d me through the night, and very plainly before day-break,
Lisp’d to me the low and delicious word DEATH;
And again Death-ever Death, Death, Death,
Hissing melodious, neither like the bird, nor like my arous’d child’s heart,
But edging near, as privately for me, rustling at my feet,
Creeping thence steadily up to my ears, and laving me softly all over,
Death, Death, Death, Death, Death.
Reply
Adbhuta rasa and the rest, that's something else. The melodious hissing more like the bird and my arous'd child's heart. In their season!
Reply
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