Sunday, April 27, 2014

Childhood

How could they survive?
Well, they had a telephone.
Their parents had none.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Friday, April 25, 2014

Friday is Skyday

Before thunderstorm.
Just a few minutes to go.
What an atmosphere!

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Rather be it Shakespeare*

On Shakespeare's 450th birthday and
the 398nd anniversary of either his death
and the death of Cervantes
just to wish a very special literary evening.

It's also the (International) Day of the book?

Well, yes. But isn't every day a day of the book?

Comparing the results of my recent attempts to write some sonnets myself with what I am rereading these days, I came to the conclusion, in order not to put anyone off the realm of poetry, to post rather one from the Master of Avondale.


Alack what poverty my muse brings forth,
That having such a scope to show her pride,
The argument all bare is of more worth
Than when it hath my added praise beside.
O blame me not if I no more can write!
Look in your glass and there appears a face,
That over-goes my blunt invention quite,
Dulling my lines, and doing me disgrace.
Were it not sinful then striving to mend,
To mar the subject that before was well?
For to no other my verses tend,
Than of your graces and your gifts to tell.
       And more, much more than in my verse can sit,
       Your own glass shows you, when you look in it
.

* Blessed be your good memory. Well, indeed, knowing I would be fighting with a deadline, I went back to April 23rd, 2009, copied and pasted, updated the years, and voilà.
After all, it's no dissertation. 

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Les Nuits de Fourvière




Anoushka Shankar

Sitar

Seems I need that

Deadline getting close,
getting closer and closer –
and I am posting.

:)

In Times of Peace

They hardly could know
in summer nineteen-fourteen
what was to come, hm?

It's about biofuel, stupid!

There's no rye to catch
for The Catcher in the Rye.
Modern husbandry.

On the Road

Not in Italy,
many miles northwards I drove
and thought: Tuscany.


Friday, April 18, 2014

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Last Yoik in Saami Forests?

"When the thief is strong enough, he can make it look right." 
[Heikii Hyvärinen, lawyer, Sami Parliament]



A video documentary for the UN, produced by the Saami Council.

Sami People

In the Hands of the Night



Mari Boine

On the Road

Homewards.

Der Weg ist das Ziel

A good traveller has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.

Earth, the Mother of Life



Nils-Aslak Valkeapää

Survivor [?]

Sun
Flower
2013

Hear Hear




Gula gula
nieida
gánda
Gula máttut dál du èurvot
Manin attát eatnama duolvat
mirkkoduvvot
guoriduvvot

Gula jiena
nieida
gánda
Gula máttaráhkuid jiena
Eana lea min buohkaid eadni
dan jos goddit ieza jápmit

Leatgo diktán ieèèat báinnot
Leatgo iešge mielde gilvvus
Gula máttut dál dus jerret
Itgo don muitte gos don vulget

Dus leat oappát
Dus leat vieljat
Lulli - ameriihka arvevuvddiin
Ruonaeatnama geadgerittuin
Itgo don muitte gos don vulget

Gula gula
nieida
gánda
Gula máttut dál du èurvot
Manin attát eatnama duolvat
mirkkoduvvot
guoriduvvot

Gula jiena
nieida
gánda
Gula máttaráhkuid jiena
Eana lea min buohkaid eadni
Dan jos goddit ieza jápmit

Composed by Mari Boine

Translation:

Hear the voices of the foremothers
Hear
They ask you why you let the earth become polluted
Poisoned
Exhausted
They remind you where you come from
Do you hear?
Again they want to remind you
That the earth is our mother
If we take her life
We die with her.

Mari Boine

Chimneys

More colours tonight
– why would I not be surprised? –
than a camera can catch.


Yoik of the Wind


Lady's Smock

My annual reward for not mowing too soon.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Kick-off 3p.m.

Believe it or not,
Her Royal Highness portrayed
as a Page Three Girl;

Neither in The Sun,
nor the Daily Mirror. though.
Cost me two shillings.
Official Programme:
Legendary Cup Final
.
Found in my archive.

Misty Saturday Morning

Quietude.

Liekkas




Warm

Beneath a starlit sky
I make traces
As signs of the northern light
dance above

In the care of silence
my breathing echoes
Something whispers to me
that you are on your way

Hold my hand
Stroke my cheek
Whisper beautiful words
Comfort me tenderly
Please, be warm so I woun't freeze
Give me also a yoik...

Jorgalan / translated by: Marja Skum


Brita Maret Sofia Jannok



Warm

Under a blanket of stars
I'm leaving traces
as signs from the northern lights
flicker in the sky

In the care of silence
my breaths resonate
Something whispers
that you are on your way

Hold my hand
Stroke my cheek
Whisper beautiful words
Soothe me softly
Be warm
so I'm not cold
Give me a yoik...
Read more at http://www.lyrics.com/liekkas-warm-lyrics-sofia-jannok.html#6G5ZOAScf4Tw4fD4.99

Friday, April 11, 2014

Friday is Skyday

Practise flight; slowly,
not as elegant as birds,
and much more noisy.


Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Balcony Views

Strange morning light,
and a first blossom carpet.

Monday, April 07, 2014

Monochrome Monday

Being twelve weeks young,
would s/he have thought of a trip
to France? Cèst la vie. :)

Saturday, April 05, 2014

Galore

Delight for my eyes
waiting for the bumble bees
Ah! Hear them humming?

Uisge Beatha

Water I get served
in many ways by my folks.
This way it tastes best.

Saturday Session



Paco de Lucia (21 December 1947 – 25 February 2014)

Thursday, April 03, 2014

Wednesday, April 02, 2014

Criminal Idiotic Antisocial


When I am coming to think of that criminal bastards like – choose your favourite's name – can lean back whenever these rotten criminal bastards in Washington / the Community of Values /  are talking about human rights, I can't eat as much as I'd like to vomit.

After all, it's a report by a US-Senate Committee.


P.S.: When will anglophones realise that spying not necessarily has anything to do with intelligence?

Tuesday, April 01, 2014

Goldfingers aka Scumbags

Readers who regularly do read what my "Seldom Boring" friends (on the sidebar) are posting will know that not only when it comes to "Turkish affairs" Erkan's Field Diary is an excellent source.

Some months ago this very headline caught my interest:

Meet Sarraf,

the Great (Turkish) Gatsby





Reading the article added to  certain thoughts that Recep Tayyip Erdoğan Effendi would not only call a prejudice.
After all, Turkishness is unrivalled, eh?

I am a Billionaire