Moi, je t’offrirai des perles de pluie, venues de pays
où 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
où l’amour sera roi
où l’amour sera loi
où tu seras reine.
Ne me quitte pas…
– Jacques Brel – Ne me quitte pas
(Even better, Nina Simone’s version)
The November wind abruptly blows
And the chairs on my patio tremble
Fall is falling and the thought is appalling
Yet this winter won’t wait ‘til December.
Whiskey River take my mind, don’t let her memory torture me.
Whiskey River don’t run dry, you’re all I’ve got, take care of me.
– Willie Nelson
From this tweet by Sex Cigars Booze (David Voth), which pretty much made my day
May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work you do
with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal to those who work with you
and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in the bland absences.
May the day never burden you.
May dawn find you awake and alert,
approaching your new day with dreams, possibilities and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.
May your soul calm, console and renew you.
– John O’Donohue
To hear this poem read by Timothy Dalton, as a tribute to John Barry, listen here, go to the video near the bottom and fast forward to 1:17:30. Better yet, enjoy the whole program.
The day i stop thinking like a revolutionary
Drinking like a revolutionary
Acting like a revolutionary
Talking like a revolutionary
Walking like a revolutionary
I will surely begin to promote the virtues of influence over instigation,
critical thinking over significant change,
And justify my inaction by surrounding myself with similar paysans
whose complacency has settled nicely into an inconsequential state;
A beautiful blend of inertia and inaction.
In fact, I hope the end finds me first, fighting.
Sometime after 3 AM, between Thursday and Friday, 2010-ish
Those few extra beers I had now prevent me from sleeping
I felt it; this sudden urge, this need, this calling
I wanted to start, to stop
To begin and to end
Like I knew I was moving, yet not really going anywhere
I was adrift in the river of my life
I have since had many more nights to think about it,
Many more beers to drink about it
As I slowly begin to spite the things that own me.
And the sentiment prevails.
At this point it is practically taunting;
It is asking me to become me
To hold the promises I made to myself
Tempus fugit, big guy.
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
– William Blake
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
– William Blake