kedd, január 30, 2007

"Following the folding water you carry, that carries me away..."

Sonnet LXXXI

And now you're mine. Rest with your dream in my dream.
Love and pain and work should all sleep, now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.

No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,
we will go together, over the waters of time.
No one else will travel through the shadows with me,
only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.

Your hands have already opened their delicate fists
and let their soft drifting signs drop away; your eyes closed like two gray
wings, and I move

after, following the folding water you carry, that carries
me away. The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.

Pablo Neruda

hétfő, december 04, 2006

Believe...

When it seems the magic slipped away...
We find it all again on Christmas Day.

Believe in what your heart is saying,
Hear the melody that's playing.
There's no time to waste,
There so much to celebrate.
Believe in what you feel inside,
Give your dreams the wings to fly.
You have everything you need, if you just believe.

When it seems that we have lost our way...
We find ourselves again on Christmas Day.

péntek, december 01, 2006

The first snow in St. Louis - walking in a winter wonderland

A new artist (Thank you Raymond for sharing her songs with me...): Bar Scott

More

More than the moonlight on Long Lake
Or her water on my skin
I love you more
than the sky as daylight breaks
from the darkness that was night
glorious night

the sound of waves
and sand beneath my feet
As far as my eyes will ever see

I love you more
Than the joy of Christmas morning
And the lights up on the tree
I love you more
Than the colors of the night
When I close my eyes and my dreams come to life

The pouring rain
In pools around my feet
And soft summer rain that cools the heat
I love you more

When winter comes
and water forms in sheets and icicles
One snowflake falling
A miracle in flight
And when the morning comes and all is white
I love you more

With ocean waves
And sand beneath my feet
In all that I see
You are to me
I love you more

hétfő, november 27, 2006

Leaving is a little bit like dying - Partir c'est mourir un peu

SEUL, " RONDEL DE L'ADIEU "
Partir c'est mourir un peu,
C'est mourir à ce que l'on aime :
On laisse un peut de soi-même
En toute heure et dans tout lieu.

C'est toujours le deuil d'un voeu,
Le dernier vers d'un poème ;
Partir, c'est mourir à ce que l'on aime.

Et l'on part et c'est un jeu
Et jusqu'à l'adieu suprème
C'est son âme que l'on sème,
Que l'on sème en chaque adieu :
Partir, c'est mourir un peu.

Edmond HARAUCOURT (1891)

hétfő, november 13, 2006

Kris Kristofferson - I'd rather be sorry...

If you hurt me, you won't be the first or the last
In a lifetime of many mistakes.
But I won't spend tomorrow regretting the past
For the chances that I didn't take.

'Cause I'll never know 'til it's over
If I'm right or I'm wrong loving you,
But I'd rather be sorry for something I've done
Than for something that I didn't do.

When you touch me it's easy to make me believe
Tomorrow won't take you away
But I'd gamble whatever tomorrow might bring
For the love that I'm living today.

'Cause I'll never know 'til it's over
If I'm right or I'm wrong loving you,
But I'd rather be sorry for something I've done
Than for something that I didn't do.

I know someday that I may wake up all alone
When the love I believed in has died
But at least I won't wonder what I might have won
>From the lifetime that I watched going by

'Cause I'll never know 'til it's over
If I'm right or I'm wrong loving you,
But I'd rather be sorry for something I've done
Than for something that I didn't do

csütörtök, november 09, 2006

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
John Donne

Thursday song:-)

LOOKING FOR SPACE
John Denver

On the road of experience I'm trying to find my own way.
Sometimes I wish that I could fly away.
When I think that I'm moving suddenly things stand still,
I'm afraid 'cause I think they always will.

And I'm looking for space and to find out who I am
and I'm looking to know and understand.
It's a sweet, sweet dream, sometimes I'm almost there,
sometimes I fly like an eagle and sometimes I'm deep in despair.

All alone in the universe, sometimes that's how it seems.
I get lost in the sadness and the screams.
Then I look in the center, suddenly everything's clear,
I find myself in the sunshine and my dreams.

And I'm looking for space and to find out who I am
and I'm looking to know and understand.
It's a sweet, sweet dream, sometimes I'm almost there,
sometimes I fly like an eagle and sometimes I'm deep in despair.

On the road of experience join in the living day.
If there's an answer it's just that it's just that way.

When you're looking for space and to find out who you are,
when you're looking to try and reach the stars
it's a sweet, sweet dream, sometimes I'm almost there,
sometimes I fly like an eagle but sometimes I'm deep in despair.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle, like an eagle I go flying, flying.

kedd, november 07, 2006

Csak eszembe jutott minap:)

"What can you say about a twenty-five-year-old girl who died?
That she was beautiful. And brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the Beatles. And me. Once, when she specifically lumped me with those musical types, I asked her what the order was, and she replied, smiling, “Alphabetical.” At the time I smiled too. But now I sit and wonder whether she was listing me by my first name -- in which case I would trail Mozart -- or by my last name, in which case I would edge in there between Bach and the Beatles. Either way I don't come first, which for some stupid reason bothers hell out of me, having grown up with the notion that I always had to be number one."

hétfő, november 06, 2006

Khalil Gibran - The Prophet - On Love

"... And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.

Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.

To know the pain of too much tenderness.

To be wounded by your own understanding of love;

And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;

To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;

To return home at eventide with gratitude;

And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips."

szombat, november 04, 2006

Marceline Desbordes-Valmore

Apart (Les Séparés)

Do not write. I am sad, and want my light put out.
Summers in your absence are as dark as a room.
I have closed my arms again. They must do without.
To knock at my heart is like knocking at a tomb.
Do not write!

Do not write. Let us learn to die, as best we may.
Did I love you? Ask God. Ask yourself. Do you know?
To hear that you love me, when you are far away,
Is like hearing from heaven and never to go.
Do not write!

Do not write. I fear you. I fear to remember,
For memory holds the voice I have often heard.
To the one who cannot drink, do not show water,
The beloved one's picture in the handwritten word.
Do not write!

Do not write those gentle words that I dare not see,
It seems that your voice is spreading them on my heart,
Across your smile, on fire, they appear to me,
It seems that a kiss is printing them on my heart.
Do not write!

Study group photo


Ime ket foto az MPH study group-omrol, akikkel egyutt keszultunk a vizsgara!

péntek, november 03, 2006

November

Szeretteim - Mar csak nehany het es otthon leszek! December 17-en erkezem Budapestre es december 30-ig maradok. Az indulasomig meg sok sok feladattal kell elbannom itt az USA-ban.

Meg nem meseltem el Nektek, hogy elkezdtem teniszezni es lassan, de biztosan fejlesztem ezt a keszseget - meg nem vagyok kesz a jovo evi Wimbledonra, de lassacskan mar kellemesen utogetek a palyan:)

Nem meseltem azt sem el, hogy sikerult a master vizsgam!!! Mostmar csak nehany kurzus van hatra a majusi diplomaosztomig. Aztan irasbeli PhD vizsga 2007 oktobereben es remenyeim szerint szobeli decemberben. Vegul 2008 majusig diplomairas...

Csak roviden szerettem volna osszegezni hol allok most.

Puszillak Benneteket!

csütörtök, november 02, 2006

What a great-great song...

I Know It's Over
Lyrics by Stephen Morrissey
Music by Johnny Marr

Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as I climb into an empty bed
Oh well. Enough said.
I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Oh ...
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to slit me
Do you think you can help me ?
Sad veiled bride, please be happy
Handsome groom, give her room
Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
(Though she needs you
More than she loves you)
And I know it's over - still I cling
I don't know where else I can go
Over and over and over and over
Over and over, la ...
I know it's over
And it never really began
But in my heart it was so real
And you even spoke to me, and said :
"If you're so funny
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
And if you're so clever
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
If you're so very entertaining
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
If you're so very good-looking
Why do you sleep alone tonight ?
I know ...
'Cause tonight is just like any other night
That's why you're on your own tonight
With your triumphs and your charms
While they're in each other's arms..."
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
Over, over, over, over
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes guts to be gentle and kind
Over, over
Love is Natural and Real
But not for you, my love
Not tonight, my love
Love is Natural and Real
But not for such as you and I, my love
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my ...
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can even feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh Mother, I can feel the soil falling over my ...

szerda, november 01, 2006

A smile to forget a nasty-nasty day:)



Sarah Brightman - The Perfect Year

Bring out the old, bring in the new
A midnight wish to share with you
Your lips are warm, my head is light
Were we alive before tonight?
I don't need a crowded ballroom
Everything I want is here
If you're with me, next year will be
The perfect year

No need to hear the music play
Our eyes say all there is to say
The clock has struck
The die is cast, let's take a chance
Forget the past

I don't need a crowded ballroom
Everything I want is here
If you're with me, next year will be
The perfect year

I don't need a crowded ballroom
Everything I want is here
If you're with me, next year will be
The perfect year

It's New Year's Eve, and hopes are high
Dance one year in, kiss one good-bye
Another chance, another start
So many dreams to tease the heart

We don't need a crowded ballroom
Everything we want is here
And face to face, we will embrace
The perfect year

We don't need a crowded ballroom
Everything we want is here
And face to face, w will embrace
The perfect year

kedd, október 31, 2006

From a singer/songwriter...

AT SEVENTEEN
(Janis Ian)


I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
and high school girls with clear skinned smiles
who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth

And those of us with ravaged faces
lacking in the social graces
desperately remained at home
inventing lovers on the phone
who called to say – come dance with me
and murmured vague obscenities
It isn't all it seems at seventeen

A brown eyed girl in hand me downs
whose name I never could pronounce
said – Pity please the ones who serve
They only get what they deserve
The rich relationed hometown queen
marries into what she needs
with a guarantee of company
and haven for the elderly

Remember those who win the game
lose the love they sought to gain
in debentures of quality and dubious integrity
Their small-town eyes will gape at you
in dull surprise when payment due
exceeds accounts received at seventeen

To those of us who knew the pain
of valentines that never came
and those whose names were never called
when choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me

We all play the game, and when we dare
we cheat ourselves at solitaire
Inventing lovers on the phone
Repenting other lives unknown
that call and say – Come dance with me
and murmur vague obscenities
at ugly girls like me, at seventeen

Missy Higgins: Don't ever...

Let's take the train to anywhere
I wanna feel the wind in my hair with you.
Let's tell them all, that soon they'll know
how very wrong they were to think we'd never go,

and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine
and we will clean the cobwebs out of one anothers minds.

Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.

We'll get a house where the trees hang low and pretty little flowers
on our window sill will grow
We'll make friends with the milk man and the butcher Mr. Timms
will give us discounts when he can,

and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine,
and we will clean the cobwebs out of one anothers minds.

Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time
LA DI DA DI DA...

Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time...

hétfő, október 23, 2006

A lovely song for my exam week


If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that Id like to do
Is to save every day
Till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
Id save every day like a treasure and then,
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
Ive looked around enough to know
That youre the one I want to go
Through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

csütörtök, október 19, 2006

Goethe for today

One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.

Science arose from poetry--when times change the two can meet again on a higher level as friends.

That is the true season of love, when we believe that we alone can love, that no one could ever have loved so before us, and that no one will love in the same way after us.

Treat a man as he appears to be, and you make him worse. But treat a man as if he were what he potentially could be, and you make him what he should be.

If I love you, what business is it of yours?

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

hétfő, október 09, 2006

Life is short. Forgive quickly. Kiss slowly. --Robert Doisneau

Ma reggel Doisneau-ra eheztem:) Azt hiszem szepen mutatna az egyetemen az iroasztalom felett... olyannyira eros volt a kesztetes, hogy meg francia radiokat is hallgattam... www.nostalgie.fr es tarsai:)

Mivel egyelore nincs meg az ahitott kepem legalabb ide felhelyezem:


Leonard Cohen: Take this waltz - Frederico Garcia Lorca: Little viennese waltz - Zorán: Volt egy tánc


Take this waltz
(Leonard Cohen)

Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women
There's a shoulder where death comes to cry.
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows.
There's a tree where the doves go to die.
There's a piece that was torn from the morning,
and it hangs in the Gallery of Frost --
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws.

I want you, I want you, I want you
on a chair with a dead magazine.
In the cave at the tip of the lily,
in some hallway where love's never been.
On a bed where the moon has been sweating,
in a cry filled with footsteps and sand --
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take its broken waist in your hand.

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
with its very own breath
of brandy and death,
dragging its tail in the sea.

There's a concert hall in Vienna
where your mouth had a thousand reviews.
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking,
they've been sentenced to death by the blues.
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
with a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz, it's been dying for years.

There's an attic where children are playing,
where I've got to lie down with you soon,
in a dream of Hungarian lanterns,
in the mist of some sweet afternoon.
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow,
all your sheep and your lilies of snow --
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
with its "I'll never forget you, you know!"

And I'll dance with you in Vienna,
I'll be wearing a river's disguise.
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
my mouth on the dew of your thighs.
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
with the photographs there, and the moss.
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty,
my cheap violin and my cross.
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
to the pools that you lift on your wrist --
O my love, O my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
it's yours now. It's all that there is.


Little Viennese Waltz
(Frederico Garcia Lorca)

In Vienna there are ten little girls,
a shoulder for death to cry on,
and a forest of dried pigeons.
There is a fragment of tomorrow
in the museum of winter frost.
There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this close-mouthed waltz.

Little waltz, little waltz, little waltz,
of itself of death, and of brandy
that dips its tail in the sea.

I love you, I love you, I love you,
with the armchair and the book of death,
down the melancholy hallway,
in the iris's darkened garret,

Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this broken-waisted waltz.

In Vienna there are four mirrors
in which your mouth and the ehcoes play.
There is a death for piano
that paints little boys blue.
There are beggars on the roof.
There are fresh garlands of tears.

Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz that dies in my arms.

Because I love you, I love you, my love,
in the attic where the children play,
dreaming ancient lights of Hungary
through the noise, the balmy afternoon,
seeing sheep and irises of snow
through the dark silence of your forehead

Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this " I will always love you" waltz

In Vienna I will dance with you
in a costume with
a river's head.
See how the hyacinths line my banks!
I will leave my mouth between your legs,
my soul in a photographs and lilies,
and in the dark wake of your footsteps,
my love, my love, I will have to leave
violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons



Volt egy tánc
(Zorán)

Hófehér hajó úszott a folyón
S összesimult a fiú s a lány
Színes lampion fénylett az égen
Mint a brosstű a mélykék ruhán
És a fedélzet zenével megtelt
Szólt a ringató, lassú románc
Aj, aj, aj, aj
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
Ilyen szépet csak filmekben látsz

És a vonatok indultak sorra
És a fiú az ablakban állt
És a vagonban nevettek rajta
A harcedzett vén katonák
Hogyha férfi vagy, rejtsd el a könnyed
Mi lesz veled, ha a csatában jársz
Aj, aj, aj, aj
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
Talán egyszer még lesz folytatás
Egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc
És a lángon, a halálon, füstön át
Úszik egy fehér hajó

És a vonatok megjöttek sorra
Néhány békeév nekünk is járt
Aztán jött az a rettegett autó
És a ház előtt halkan megállt
És a mama az ablaknál állva
Újra évekig apámra várt
Aj, aj, aj, aj
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
Talán egyszer még lesz folytatás

És a brosstűből szénre már nem telt
És a harmadik tél is lejárt
És egy hajnalon csöngettek hármat
És az apám az ajtóban állt
Azt se bántuk, hogy nem volt már semmink
Mindent elnyelt a nagy zálogház
Aj, aj, aj, aj
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
Talán mégiscsak lesz folytatás

Egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc
És a börtönön, magányon, reményen át
Úszik egy fehér hajó

De már szóltak a hírek s az ágyuk
Mondd, az életük miért lenne más
És mi mindent két bőröndbe gyűrtünk
De már nem ment az elindulás

Már csak csendesen nézik a tévét
Ahol ragyog egy másik világ
És ők nem kérik senkin se számon
Az elrabolt évek sorát
Pedig semmiért vesztek el álmok
Mint a zálogban hagyott ruhák
Hm, volt egy tánc
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
S néha elhitték, lesz folytatás