Blog korisnika Black Orchid
| so I run to the river ... | |
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| 11 Feb 2007 01:48 | Idi na vrh |
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... - it was bleedin' I run to the sea, it was bleeding I run to the sea, it was bleeding all on that day... (by Nina Simone) 
Everything (...is Never Quite Enough) by Wasis Diop "Moments take so very long: who has time to fear? Trust to set no precedent; why should it be accomplied? Giving you a little less is taking what I need. Everything is never quite enough. Let machinery fake my face: who has time to chase? Digital is where it is; love can always be replaced. Welcome to my consciousness; welcome to our race. Everything is never quite enough. Can't see my face: what are you thinking? Fill in the space, please, oh let me hear you. Sterilized behind these gates, locked behind the green. Even if I had you here - what we had was never clear. No more words to say to you; no more thoughts appear. Love was taking way too long: who had breath to waste? Tired of disappointing you; bored with everything I do. Every day there's less of you. Me, I've been erased." * "Pictures hanging in a hallway And the fragment of a song... Like a circle in a spiral Like a wheel within a wheel Never ending or beginning On an ever-spinning reel As the images unwind Like the circles that you find In the windmills of your mind..." * |
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| *the* song | |
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| 02 Feb 2007 04:28 | Idi na vrh |
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Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems, You shall possess the good of the earth and sun.... (there are millions of suns left), You shall no longer take things at second or third hand... nor look through the eyes of the dead, nor feed on the spectres in books, You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me, You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self. * I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end, But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. There was never any more inception than there is now, Nor any more youth or age than there is now, And will never be any more perfection than there is now, Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. Urge and urge and urge, Always the procreant urge of the world. Out of the dimness opposite equals advance, always substance and increase, always sex, Always a knit of identity, always distinction, always a breed of life. To elaborate is no avail, learn'd and unlearn'd feel that it is so. ..." (W. Whitman, Leaves of Grass, "Song of Myself") |
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| what counts | |
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| 30 Jan 2007 01:02 | Idi na vrh |
| Naleteh na neshto, nadjeno nekad negde, ili pristiglo iz (danas) neznanog pravca...
so... van bilo kog eventualnog konteksta: >> What Counts "It is not love in the abstract that counts. Men have loved a cause as they have loved a woman. They have loved the brotherhood, the workers, the poor, the oppressed - but they have not loved man; they have not loved the least of these. They have not loved 'personally.' It is hard to love. It is the hardest thing in the world, naturally speaking. Have you ever read Tolstoy's 'Resurrection'? He tells of political prisoners in a long prison train, enduring chains and persecution for the love of their brothers, ignoring those same brothers on the long trek to Siberia. It is never the brothers right next to us, but the brothers in the abstract that are easy to love." (Doroti Dej, 'Meditacije') << |
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| priseti se da je zaboravish | |
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| 29 Jan 2007 04:46 | Idi na vrh |
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"Ja necu da ti poklonim zamak i ne cheka te flat na Menhetnu. Ja necu da ti poklonim prsten s njegovim oholim dijamantskim okom. Podaricu ti lepezu s natpisom: 'te quiero para olvidarte, para quererte te olvido'." (K.K.) >> I ¡Sólo tu figura, como una centella blanca, en mi noche oscura! * ¡Y en la tersa arena, cerca de la mar, tu carne rosa y morena, súbitamente, Guiomar! * En el gris del muro, cárcel y aposento, y en un paisaje futuro con sólo tu voz y el viento; * en el nácar frío de tu zarcillo en mi boca, Guiomar, y en el calofrío de una amanecida loca; * asomada al malecón que bate la mar de un sueño, y bajo el arco del ceño de mi vigilia a traición, ¡siempre tú! Guiomar, Guiomar, mírame en ti castigado: reo de haberte creado, ya no te puedo olvidar. II Todo amor es fantasia; él inventa el año, el día, la hora y su melodía; inventa el amante y, más, la amada. No prueba nada, contra el amor, que la amada no haya existido jamás. III Escribiré en tu abanico: te quiero para olvidarte, para quererte te olvido. IV Te abanicarás con un madrigal que diga: en amor el olvido pone la sal. V Te pintaré solitaria en la urna imaginaria de un daguerrotipo viejo, o en el fondo de un espejo, viva y quieta, olvidando a tu poeta. VI Y te enviaré mi canción: "se canta lo que se pierde", con un papagayo verde que la diga en tu balcón. VII Que apenas si de amor el ascua humea sabe el poeta que la voz engola y, barato cantor, se pavonea con su pesar o enluta su viola; y que si amor da su destello, sola la pura estrofa suena, fuente de monte, anónima y serena. Bajo el azul olvido, nada canta, ni tu nombre ni el mío, el agua santa. Sombra no tiene de su turbia escoria limpio metal; el verso del poeta lleva el ansia de amor que lo engendrara como lleva el diamante sin memoria -frío diamante- el fuego del planeta trocado en luz, en una joya clara... VIII Abre el rosal de la carroña horrible su olvido en flor, y extraña mariposa, jalde y carmín, de vuelo imprevisible, salir se ve del fondo de una fosa. Con el terror de víbora encelada, junto al lagarto frío con el absorto sapo en la azulada libélula que vuela sobre el río, con los montes de plomo y de ceniza, sobre los rubios agros que el sol de mayo hechiza. se ha abierto un abanico de milagros -el ángel del poema lo ha querido- en la mano creadora del olvido... << (Antonio Machado) * Soledad Fernandez - El abanico rojo * |
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| here comes the rain again ... | |
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| 27 Jan 2007 02:03 | Idi na vrh |
"Je te vois dans le metro je te bois dans mon café je te brule dans mon tabac je te mange avec mes yeux je t'imagine sous la douche je nous vois dans un grand bain je te vois dans le metro entre Barbes et Clichy Je suis fou de toi Je suis fou de toi Je te vois dans le metro ... Semblant de joie semblant de toi je reve si fort je te sens loin et puis encore je reve plus vite je reve plus loin Je suis fou de toi Semblant de joie semblant de toi je reve si fort je te sens loin et puis encore je reve plus vite et puis soudain Je suis fou de toi Je te vois dans le metro je te bois dans mon café je te brule dans mon tabac je te mange avec mes yeux je t'imagine sous la douche je nous vois dans un grand bain je te vois dans le metro entre Barbes et Clichy Semblant de joie semblant de toi je reve si fort je te sens loin et puis encore je reve plus vite je reve plus loin Semblant de toi semblant de joie je reve si fort je te sens loin et puis encore je reve plus vite et puis soudain Je suis fou de toi Je te parle dans un Taxi je te souris à la vie... Je suis fou de toi... Je te parle dans un Taxi je te souris à la vie... Je suis fou de toi... Je te parle dans un Taxi je te souris à la vie... Je suis fou de toi... Je suis fou de toi... Je suis fou de toi... Je suis fou de toi..." (manu chao) |
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| ."..tajna princeze od Kagrana..". | |
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| 24 Jan 2007 00:06 | Idi na vrh |
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* * * "... Ivan mi te noci postavlja pitanje: Zashto postoji samo Zid placha, zashto niko nije sagradio zid srece? ... U centru grada, u blizini crkve Sv. Petra videla sam stari pisaci sto kod jednog trgovca antikvitetima, nece da spusti cenu, ali hocu da ga kupim, jer bih onda mogla neshto da zapishem na starom, trajnom pergamentu kakvi vishe ne postoje, pravim perom kakva vishe ne postoje, pravim mastilom kakvo se vishe ne mozhe nac'i. Zhelim da napishem inkunabulu stojeci, jer danas je tachno dvadeset godina otkako volim Ivana i tachno je godinu dana i tri meseca i trideset i jedan dan 31. ovog meseca otkako ga poznajem... ....... Kritiku chistog uma chitala sam pod sijalicom od 60 vati u Beatriksgase, Loka, Lajbnica i Hjuma, u tami narodne biblioteke, bila sam pod malim lampama zaslepljena svim pojmovima starih vremena od predsokratovaca do Bic'a i nishtavila, Kafku, Remboa i Blejka pod sijalicom od 25 vati u jednom hotelu u Parizu, Frojda, Adlera i Junga pod 360 vati u jednoj usamljenoj berlinskoj ulici, pri laganim okretima Shopenovih etida, studirala sam rasplamteli govor o otudjenju duhovnog vlasnishtva na plazhi kod Djenove, papir je bio pun fleka od soli i ispresavijan od sunca, La comédie humaine prochitala sam za tri nedelje sa srednje visokom temperaturom oslabljena antibioticima, u Klagenfurtu, Prusta sam chitala u Minhenu sve do zore i dok radnici na krovu nisu ushli u sobu na mansardi, francuske moraliste i bechke logistichare, sa naboranim charapama, pushec'i trideset francuskih cigareta dnevno sve sam chitala, od De rerum natura do Le culte de la raison, istoriju i filozofiju, bavila se medicinom i psihologijom, radila u ludnici Shtajnhof na anamnezama shizofrenih i manichno depresivnih, pisala skripte u slushaonici Maximum na samo plus 6 stepeni i na 38 stepeni u hladu jos uvek hvatala beleshke o de mundo, de mente, de moto, posle pranja kose chitala Marksa i Engelsa i potpuno pijana chitala V. I. Lenjina, i unezverena i u begu chitala novine i novine i novine, i vec kao dete chitala novine, pred shporetom, kad sam palila vatru, i na sve strane novine i chasopise i dzhepne knjige, na svim zheleznichkim stanicama, u svim vozovima, tramvajima, trolejbusima, avionima, i chitala sve o svemu, na chetiri jezika, fortiter, fortiter, i sve razumela shto mozhe da se prochita, i od svega prochitanog oslobodjena na sat vremena, legnem pored Ivana i kazhem: Ako stvarno zhelish, napisacu tu knjigu, koja jos ne postoji, za tebe. Ali morash stvarno to da zhelish, da zhelish od mene, a ja nikad necu trazhiti da je prochitash. ... nalaziti se u stanju nevinosti razumljivije je za onoga koji se predao poroku chitanja, trebalo bi da se uopshte ne ume chitati ili stvarno chitati..." (I.Bahman) * * * "moje su poruke danonocne, a ti tek poneku uhvatish u letu, dok ima oblik latice, pahuljice ili ptichjeg pera. no tolike je vec zemlja upila i voda odnijela. zemlja po kojoj gazish shapatom ti prosvjetljuje tabane, voda koju pijesh prevodi moju rijech na jezik tvoga tijela. oh, ne hvataj samo one poruke koje imaju oblik tebi znan. jer dok jednu ispisujesh rijechima, stotinu se drugih istopi od chezhnje za tobom." * "Budi nachisto s tim shto zapravo zhelish: mene ili moj dar? Kod tebe jos uvijek postoji mijeshanje tih dviju zhelja. Sve cu ti zhelje ispuniti, ali koje - ti ces mi recci. To je jedino shto ne mogu za tebe uchiniti: pozheljeti shto ces pozheljeti. ... Chula sam tvoju zhelju. Dobiti ces ono shto sam ti vec dala: sebe. Ali, pazi: ja zauzvrat zahtijevam ono chemu se dajem. Onaj tko me prima, prima me na ruke svog davanja. Imash li takve ruke da bih ti sebe dala?" (V.Krmpotic) * * * "Das Wort vom Zur-Tiefe-Gehn, das wir gelesen haben. Die Jahre, die Worte seither. Wir sind es noch immer. Weißt du, der Raum ist unendlich, weißt du, du brauchst nicht zu fliegen, weißt du, was sich in dein Aug schrieb, vertieft uns die Tiefe." (Paul Celan, Die Niemandsrose) * * * - Luiz Bonfa playing "Black Orpheus" theme with Perry Como - * * * "Wie Orpheus spiel ich auf den Saiten des Lebens den Tod und in die Schönheit der Erde und deiner Augen, die den Himmel verwalten, [ / , in die der Himmel taucht, ] weiß ich nur Dunkles zu sagen. Vergiss nicht, dass auch du, plötzlich, an jenem Morgen, als dein Lager noch naß war von Tau und die Nelke an deinem Herzen schlief, den dunklen Fluß sahst, der an dir vorbeizog. (Du neigtest über ihn, schriest auf und batest mich, dir mit dem Bogen das Haupt abzutrennen) Die Saite des Schweigens gespannt auf die Welle von Blut, griff ich dein tönendes Herz. Verwandelt ward deine Locke ins Schattenhaar der Nacht, der Finsternis schwarze Flocken beschneiten dein Antlitz. Und ich gehör dir nicht zu. Beide klagen wir nun. Aber wie Orpheus weiß ich auf der Seite des Todes das Leben, und mir blaut dein für immer geschlossenes Aug." (Ingeborg Bachmann, Dunkles zu sagen) * * * "Gemeinsam benutzt: Jahreszeiten, Bücher und eine Musik. Die Schlüssel, die Teeschalen, den Brotkorb, Leintücher und ein Bett. Eine Aussteuer von Worten, von Gesten, mitgebracht, verwendet, verbraucht. Eine Hausordnung beachtet. Gesagt. Getan. Und immer die Hand gereicht. In Winter, in ein Wiener Septett und in Sommer habe ich mich verliebt. In Landkarten, in ein Bergnest, in einen Strand und in ein Bett. Einen Kult getrieben mit Daten, Versprechen für unkündbar erklärt, angehimmelt ein Etwas und fromm gewesen vor einem Nichts, ( - der gefalteten Zeitung, der kalten Asche, dem Zettel mit einer Notiz) furchtlos in der Religion, denn die Kirche war dieses Bett. Aus dem Seeblick hervor ging meine unerschöpfliche Malerei. Von dem Balkon herab waren die Völker, meine Nachbarn, zu grüßen. Am Kaminfeuer, in der Sicherheit, hatte mein Haar seine äußerste Farbe. Das Klingeln an der Tür war der Alarm für meine Freude. Nicht dich habe ich verloren, sondern die Welt." (Ingeborg Bachmann, Eine Art Verlust) * * * "Ustani i idi! Nije ti slomljena ni jedna koshchica." (I.B.) * * * * * "Liebe ist nicht umklammern bis keiner mehr Luft kriegt, Liebe ist Umarmung bis beide frei atmen können." (Unbekannt) |
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| the truth is out there | |
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| 21 Jan 2007 20:03 | Idi na vrh |
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ili "The more I know, the more I am aware of how little I know (and how much more I do not know)" Zemlja je bila ravna plocha, bolesti su redom lechene pijavicama, a pacijenti psihijatrijskih ustanova elektroshokovima. Ni u jednoj knjizi ili nauchnom radu ne mozhete naci potpunu, jedinu i jedinu ispravnu, "apsolutnu" istinu. Sva "nauka" i istrazhivanje su pokushaj choveka da na razlichite nachine sebi objasni dotad neobjashnjivo, eventualno reshi neki problem, ili pak manipulishe drugima. Uzmite koliko god hocete uzoraka - nedovoljno je. Uvek ostaje mogucnost da vam je promakao upravo "izuzetak". I da je bar jedan, pa da se uhvatite za onu poznatu floskulu "izuzetak samo potvrdjuje pravilo"... Ispitajte kojim god hocete i mozhete metodama - nisu apsolutno pouzdane. Ono shto jedno istrazhivanje, prouchavanje, knjiga... mozhe da vam kazhe, to je nivo koji je nauka dostigla u tom nekom trenutku. Koliko puta je neshto do juche "dokazano" korisno proglasheno za shtetno, i obratno? Koliko puta je doshlo do "omashke" u prorachunu? Koliko je sve puta neka apsolutna istina od juche zamenjena novom od danas (koju ce smeniti ona sutrashnja)? A novih saznanja svakoga dana... Nivo na kome se nauka nalazi, do koga je ljudsko istrazhivanje stiglo. Koja su dotadashnja saznanja, koja najsvezhija, s kojim ciljem se istrazhivanju pristupilo, krece li se od nule ili je cilj samo "dokazati" jednu hipotezu - pobiti ostale, shta je sve uzeto u obzir, koje su nove pretpostavke i teorije, koje se metode praktikuju, kakva tehnologija... i slichno. O tome mozhete dosta saznati, da. Uvek mnogo vishe o samoj nauci, nego o predmetu prouchavanja. Treba umeti chitati. Treba umeti kritichki misliti. Umeti razmishljati. Biti dovoljno otvoren, da bi se prihvatilo novo i drugachije, ali ne poklanjati veru slepo "autoritetima" (bilo koje vrste). "Nikada ne prestati postavljati pitanja", i sve dovesti u pitanje, a istovremeno drzhati za moguce. Nesigurnost proizashla iz toga? Pa mi ne znamo ni otkuda smo ni kako ni zashto, pa zhivimo sa time... pokushavajuci da saznamo... ali ne znamo, do daljnjeg. Dve paralelne prave se nikad i nikako ne seku, a onda se ispostavi da je to ipak moguce. Naime, u zakrivljenim prostorima se ipak seku. Korisna stvarchica za astronautiku... Mala digresija: Emisija od pre nekoliko dana... Jednoj mladoj zheni je pronadjen y hromozom u svim celijama krvi, dok ga u celijama tela nema. Najnormalnije je razvijena kao zhena, materica, jajnici..., sve na broju i funkcionalno. "Samo" ima "mushku" krv. Imala je brata, jednojajchanog blizanca (koji je umro ubrzo po rodjenju), pa se pretpostavlja da je do podele gen. materijala, polozhaja u materici, ...... |
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| "to die, to sleep" | |
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| 20 Jan 2007 06:58 | Idi na vrh |
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"When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake." "The worst mistake that you can make is to think you're alive when really you're asleep in life's waiting room." "I'll miss the sea, but a person needs new experiences. They jar something deep inside, allowing him to grow. Without change something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken." ______________________________________ * mentalni link 4: "Postati svestan smrti" i "postati nevazhno da li cete zhiveti ili umreti" su 2 razlichite stvari 
Svi mi znamo da cemo umreti, ali se neki nadaju i svojski trude da pozhive jedno 100 godina, shtede sebe i sve za prekosutra, uchaure se i zhive kao krtice, neki zhive bukvalno od danas do sutra, nevodeci rachuna ni o kome i ni o chemu, neki "odradjuju" dane i hodaju spavajuci, neki........ Poenta je da je za zhivot potrebna izvesna doza ludosti, odredjena spremnost na rizik, i da je zapravo nebitno da li cu umreti danas, za pola veka ili sutra, vec kako cu zhiveti to neko svoje vreme. A ako se toliko brinem da ne umrem, najbolje da ne izadjem iz sobe ceo svoj vek. Mogla bi zaboga da me udare kola, da mi padne cigla na glavu, da padnem i pokupim tetanus, a o manijacima ili virusima i da ne govorim... (pu pu pu) A to shta cu sve da propustim... pa, bozhe moj, shta cu, nije mi svejedno ... I nije mi svejedno. Ali nije mi svejedno da li cu da prezhivim ili da zhivim. Elem, necu da skachem sa zgrade da vidim da li znam da letim, ali... razumesh valjda o chemu pricham
Ti kazhesh da svako "intenzivnije" zhivi kad postane svestan smrti. Ok, npr. ljudi koji saznaju da imaju neku neizlechivu bolest, potrude se da preostale dane ispune... ali to nije isto, vec jedna trka sa vremenom, pre strah da im neshto ne promakne; osim u "idealnim" sluchajevima kada im najednom pukne pred ochima da je mnogo shta (poput titule, materijalnog, i sl.) zapravo besmisleno i bezvredno, ili odluche da "uzmu odmor" i urade sve ono shto su oduvek zheleli, kada promene nachin zhivota (pa se retki tako i izleche, jer su bolesti psiho-somatske, kao shto je poznato...). Ali je ironija kada se ne izleche, nego umru bash onda kada su konachno pocheli da zhive, jer pa do tada nisu shvatali nishta. No, bolje ikad nego nikad, pa makar i na kratko ako progledaju, vredelo je. I, "da bismo najzad videli jasno, pogledom koji nije zamagljen strahom i zheljom, i da hrabro zhivimo sada i ovde, prozhivljavajuci svaki novi trenutak svezhinom deteta." Ko najintenzivnije, najlepshe, najbudnije... zhivi, nego deca (ako je sve ok.., al da ne idem sad na tu stranu). A neshto ne verujem da su ona toliko svesna smrti. Naprotiv, imaju oseccaj kao da je ceo zhivot pred njima, smrt im ni na kraj pameti.., pa opet zhive posveccena svakom trenutku. Mozhda bash zato shto ne razmishljaju da li ce i kada ce, relacija zhivot-smrt za njih i ne postoji, postoji samo Sada... * kao i ondashnji "link", ovde br. 5: "Dr. Bill Perlman: He and your wife are the only survivors I can't reach. She won't talk and he won't admit the crash was bad. Manny Rodrigo: Is that right? He says it was good? Dr. Bill Perlman: Says it was the best thing that ever happened to him. --- Carla Rodrigo: You told me I was going to be safe with you. Max Klein: You're safe. You're safe because we died already." ("Fearless") _____________________________________ "The goal of dream hunters is to understand that every awakening is just one step in the many releases from dreaming. He who understands that his day is merely another person's night, that his two eyes are another person's one, will search for the real day, which enables true awakening from one's own reality, just as one awakens from a dream, and this leads to a condition where man is even more wakeful than when conscious. Then he will finally see that he has one eye as opposed to those with two, and is blind compared with those who are awake." "You wake up at Seatac, SFO, LAX. You wake up at O'Hare, Dallas-Fort Worth, BWI. Pacific, mountain, central. Lose an hour, gain an hour. This is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time. You wake up at Air Harbor International. If you wake up at a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?" "Jutros sam se rodio u jednoj jurti na ivici konjske ravnice u jednoj zemlji na planeti koja vishe ne postoji. Sutra cu biti rodjen kao neko drugi, na nekom drugom mestu. Jos nisam izabrao." ... but don't forget... "you have been warned" 
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| shetajuci waldenom... | |
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| 18 Jan 2007 02:04 | Idi na vrh |
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"... I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks, who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering; which word is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the middle ages, and asked charity, under pretence of going à la sainte terre" — to the holy land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a sainte-terrer", a saunterer — a holy-lander. They who never go to the holy land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds, but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all, but the Saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. But I prefer the first, which indeed is the most probable derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, ..." (Thoreau, "Walking") "If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured, or far away." (Henry David Thoreau, "Walden") |
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| le soleil en hiver | |
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| 14 Jan 2007 04:21 | Idi na vrh |
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"Petits matins dans la nuit... Petits cafés dans leurs tasses..." manu chao ~ 14 Jan 2007 ~ "somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose..." e.e. cummings "They who are near me do not know that you are nearer to me than they are... Those who speak to me do not know that my heart is full with your unspoken words... Those who crowd in my path do not know that I am walking alone with you... They who love me do not know that their love brings you to my heart..." r. tagore ~ 20 Jan 2007 ~ "...ona je moja, nishta ne kazhe, c'uti kao stepski vuk. Kada je poljubim, k'o da se budi. Dobro jutro, to sam ja. Uvek je pitam chija je bila, dok je tako spavala. Ona je moja i kad sve prodje, ona je moja, ona je moja. I ako ode strashno daleko, ona je moja, ona je moja. Ti znash da sve mi oprostish ti znash da me lako uvredish, da me chekash ti to znash, Tvoj san mi nishta ne kazhe, tvoj znak me nikad ne lazhe, znash da cekash, a znam i ja. Dobro jutro, to sam ja..." galija ~ 21 Jan 2007 ~ "I like the love And I like the peaceful I wish everyone I know could Stand in the heartlight I hold the hand I walk with the teacher We welcome in the mornin' Singing together Can you feel the love that's in my heart? Can you see the flame we got to start? Burnin' like a beacon in the night O welcome to heartlight! Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh welcome to heartlight I'm like the rain 'cause I like your thunder I know we've learned to live together Here in the heartlight Stand in the dark Oh, oh and I'll light a candle And then we'll dance it in the moonlight Until the sunrise Can you feel the love that's in my heart? Can't you see the flame we've got to start? Burnin' like a beacon in the night O welcome to heartlight! Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light ... Can you feel the love that's in my heart? Can't you see the flame we've got to start? ... Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light Oh oooh heart of light ..... Oh welcome to heartlight" kenny loggins ~ 19 Mar 2007 ~ "ain't no sunshine when sHe's gone... it's not warm when she's away... ain't no sunshine when she's gone and she's always gone too long anytime she goes away..." bill withers ~ 13 Apr 2007 ~ "like the sand can seep right through your fingers, so can all your days as those days go by you'll have me there to help you find ... ... and I will catch you if you fall you'll never have to ask me why and when the rain begins to fall, I'll be the sunshine in your life you know that we can have it all and everything will be alright time goes by so fast you've got to have a dream to just hold on ... ... though the sun may hide, we still can see the light that shines for you and me, we'll be together all that we can be ... and I will catch you if you fall you'll never have to ask me why and when the rain begins to fall, I'll be the sunshine in your life you know that we can have it all and everything will be alright ..." jermaine jackson & pia zadora ~ 02 Maj 2007 ~ "... ride the night through the end, seize the day, stand up for the light ..." tina arena & marc anthony ~ 07 Jun 2007 ~ "... we'll be together, yeah with a roof right over our heads we'll share the shelter, yeah, oh yeah of my single bed we'll share the same room, yeah for Jah provide the bread is this love, is this love, is this love, is this love that i'm feelin'? is this love, is this love, is this love, is this love that i'm feelin'? wo-o-o-oah oh yes, i know, yes, i know, yes, i know now oh yes, i know, yes, i know, yes, i know now i-i-i-i-i-i-i i'm willing and able, so i throw my cards on your table see: i wanna love ya ..." bob marley |
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