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 |  Look around. Let Nature nurture your Soul. I record images I sense and share them here. |
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NURTURE your NATURE  Nature can nurture our writing, can nurture our soul. What is the language of Nature? And how do we learn it? We look at the natural wonders around us and do not see them, hear, taste nor smell them. They do not touch us anymore than we dare touch them. And then we wonder why we feel so dead. To breathe in and live like a child again opens the Land of Wonderment. It's still there after all these years.   |
| Entry 29. 🌻 thankful pwheeler nano: I could add as I'd like it to be played at my funeral. It's a 'first' memory from when I was 3. Another is "Greensleeves" and another my father reading the newspaper in the over-stuffed chair by the front door while sunbeams lit the scene etched in my mind. The word halcyon described it. It was possibly Saturday, but most probably Sunday. "Greensleeves" also takes me back to the small back bedroom (ours until my parents switched rooms when we were little). This song is very peaceful. I had gardens from when I was nine. Later as an adult I would work in my gardens past twilight until I couldn't see. I have houseplants in Montana but it isn't the same thing. If I stay in Thailand I'd love to have a garden again. At least here in Udon Thani and in Missoula, the alleys have weeds and abandoned plants that flower. I take photos. But actually working the soil with my hands would help my depression and anxiety. |
| Adeste fidelis |🇻🇦 What a tangled history! The English discovered the world so they claim this too! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O_Come,_All_Ye_Faithful My opinion is that it's older than accredited. Personally, it's a memory from childhood. We were a factory town controlled by the Catholic churches. There were 5 parishes that covered parts of the school district. Latin was taught in the public high school. We sang this in both English and Latin. That was before Vatican II and Pope John XXIII. These days? I've moved on. I am not Christian. But the Pope is still Catholic. This Vatican video is from 2015. 1. Adeste, fideles, laeti triumphantes; venite, venite in Bethleem. Natum videte Regem angelorum. Venite, adoremus Dominum! 2. En, grege relicto, hùmiles ad cunas Vocati pastores adpròperant; Et nos ovanti gradu festinemus. 3. Aeterni Parentis splendorem æternum, Velatum sub carne vidébimus; Deum infantem, pannis invòluntum. 4. Ergo qui natus die hodierna, Jesu, tibi sit glòria, Patris Aeterni Verbum caro factum. This is entry 28 of 28. My history with music is eclectic to say the least. This February 2023/2566 list seems to focus more on my childhood and a few memorable moments of my life. That said, it doesn't include much of what I listen to these days in Montana or Thailand, nor even many of my favorite songs. But going down Memory Lane is intoxicating and it reminds me that my life is a woven tapestry. And yes, "Tapestry" by Carole King is one of my all time favorites. 1518 |
| “Garota De Ipanema” 🇧🇷 I found a version in Brazilian and English! Antônio Carlos Brasileiro de Almeida Jobim (1927 – 1994) popularized the bossa nova with "A girl from Ipanema" in 1965. So I was maybe 13 or 14 when I first heard this. Hmm... I vaguely remember those years... not fondly. But the music of that period of my life easily comes to mind. The best of times, the worst of times... maybe. Anyhoo, the melody is bouncy and the lyrics fit teenage angst. How can I tell her I love her Yes, I would give my heart gladly But each day as she walks to the sea She looks straight ahead, not at me Won't let me embed at WDC (male/female Brazilian/English): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_LnR5tm6cY (female 'modern' version) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r_LnR5tm6cY (male in Brazilian with fast beat... sounds more authentic to me) |
| There is no emoji for Austria-Hungary. Gruber wrote the melody in the early 1800s and Mohr the lyrics. It has changed little from the original found in (which includes an audio): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silent_Night I have mixed emotions these days. As an 11 year old I sang this in German in my soprano voice. It has always been a peaceful song to me. But Christian songs/hymns are seldom truly peaceful. There's often a sense of superiority implicated in the common belief that they follow the only True Religion. White Christian Nationalism springs forth from these roots. Oberndorf bei Salzburg (where this was composed in 1818) isn't far from Braunau am Inn (where Hitler was born in 1889), 45 minutes north on Rte. B156. Peace or War ... you choose your own Path. The Thai version (which follows) has a slightly different feel than the German or English version. Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht! Alles schläft, einsam wacht (all is sleeping, alone watches) nur das traute, hochheilige Paar. (only the close, most holy Couple) Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar, (blessed Boy in curly Hair) schlaf in himmlischer Ruh, (sleep in heavenly Peace) schlaf in himmlischer Ruh. Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht! Hirten erst kundgemacht (Shepherds just informed) Durch der Engel Alleluja, by the Angel's Hallelujah) Tönt es laut bei ferne und nah: (sounds it aloud from Far and Wide) Christ, der Retter ist da! (Christ the Savior is here!) Christ, der Retter ist da! Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht! Gottes Sohn, o wie lacht (God's Son, oh how laughs) Lieb aus deinem göttlichen Mund, (Love out of your devine Mouth) da uns schlägt die rettende Stund, (For now the Hour of salvation strikes for us.) Christ, in deiner Geburt, (Christ, in thy Birth!) Christ, in deiner Geburt. Thai version: ยามราตรี ศรีหรรษา Night time, Sri Hansa (Silent night, holy night) มีราชามาประสูติ A king was born (All is calm, all is bright) จากสาวพรหมจารีบริสุทธิ์ from a virgin virgin [pure Brahma girl] (Round yon virgin mother and Child.) เป็นกุมารน่ารักที่สุด It's the cutest child (Holy Infant, so tender and mild,) มาเพื่อช่วยชาวโลกา come to help the people of the world (Sleep in heavenly peace,) มาเพื่อช่วยชาวโลกา come to help the people of the world (Sleep in heavenly peace,) |
| 🇦🇷 Mercedes Sosa (1935-2009) Born in Tucumán, Argentina, she gave a voice to the indigenous and poor people of the world. She was beloved far beyond the borders of her native land. I remember where I was when I heard of La Negra's death: Hone Creek, Costa Rica at my friend Armodio's house. It has been that long... "Sólo Le Pido a Dios" is one of her strongest messages: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gvyl_zdji2k But on a personal note, I must be grateful for all that I've learned in this life. It's not over yet; but, at a certain age it becomes evident that it won't go on forever (and for that I must be very very grateful). Lyrics Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. Me dio dos luceros, que cuando los abro, Perfecto distingo lo negro del blanco Y en el alto cielo su fondo estrellado Y en las multitudes el hombre que yo amo. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. Me ha dado el oído que en todo su ancho Graba noche y día, grillos y canarios, Martillos, turbinas, ladridos, chubascos, Y la voz tan tierna de mi bien amado. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. Me ha dado el sonido y el abecedario; Con él las palabras que pienso y declaro: Madre, amigo, hermano, y luz alumbrando La ruta del alma del que estoy amando. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. Me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados; Con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos, Playas y desiertos, montañas y llanos, Y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. Me dio el corazón que agita su marco Cuando miro el fruto del cerebro humano, Cuando miro al bueno tan lejos del malo, Cuando miro al fondo de tus ojos claros. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. Me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto. Así yo distingo dicha de quebranto, Los dos materiales que forman mi canto, Y el canto de ustedes que es mi mismo canto, Y el canto de todos que es mi propio canto. Gracias a la vida que me ha dado tanto. |
| This isn't the version I remember. "Choucoune" is a Haitian poem going back to the 1880s. It has spawned many versions. Harry Belafonte had a well-known version and there are others with steelpan drums. But this version will do. We sang it in high-school chorus in the 1960s. I doubt if we did it with a calypso flair. Like so many attempts to expand our horizons beyond Bach, we were still a German-American factory town. Lyrics Yellow Bird Up high in banana tree Yellow Bird You sit all alone like me Did your lady friend Leave your nest again This is very sad Makes me feel so bad You can fly away In the sky away You're more lucky than me I also had a pretty girl She's not with me today They're all the same The pretty girls Take tenderness Then they fly away Yellow Bird Up high in banana tree Yellow Bird You sit all alone like me Let her fly away In the sky away Pick a town and soon Take from night to noon Black and yellow you Like banana too They might pick you someday Wish that I were a yellow bird I'd fly away with you But I am not a yellow bird So here I sit Nothing else to do Yellow Bird Yellow Bird Yellow Bird |
| Morning... Spring... 🇳🇴 Morning was used in cartoons in the 50s and 60s. The video isn't true to the original story as it was set in a desert in Morocco. Ibsen's play "Per Gynt" was famous and Grieg composed memorable music to it. Here's some more Grieg that goes back to my childhood: Arthur Rubenstein plays Grieg's Concerto in A minor: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1Yoyz6_Los Sissel Kyrkjebø sings Våren: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J05oDDWm_-0 Lucie Kaňková sings Solveig's song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWEGGcgtnJs The piece starts loud as sunrise in the desert is quick and surprising like entering a dark room and flipping the light switch. It then tapers off after the initial shock. Very moving and memorable. I probably heard this at an early age. Cartoons were Saturday mornings. Morning! |
| 🇫🇷 Le vie en rose... life in pink. I could cry today. This cheery song is the opposite of how I feel. Abandoned? Unloved? Unappreciated? I could jump out a window... but I won't. The Little Sparrow (1915 – 1963) had a troubled life of neglect, illness, addiction to pain-killers. Her music reflects that reality. I resonate with the bittersweet so this sweet song contrasts with a not-so-sweet reality. It is interesting how pain and sorrow mixed with talent can create a super-star. She was that. As was Frida Kahlo... So... better memories of Lourdes dancing around at breakfast singing this song. If you ever visit The Independente in Lisbon smile and give her my love. Lyrics Des yeux qui font baisser les miens Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche Voilà le portrait sans retouches De l'homme auquel j'appartiens Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Mais moi, ça me fait quelque chose Il est entré dans mon cœur Une grande part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat Des nuits d'amour à plus finir Un grand bonheur qui prend sa place Des ennuis, des chagrins s'effacent Heureux, heureux à en mourir Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu'il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça me fait quelque chose Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat Et dès que je l'aperçois Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat |
| Fields of Athenry 🇮🇪 can be sweet or haunting. My friend Celia Farran sings it sweetly but I prefer this version sung by Brian O'Donnell as it's raw and moving. Story is he was a street busker when he was found. But... google him... can't find any more info. The song is notorious in Ireland. It's used in rugby matches... but it really strikes a chord for all those who lament the tragedies of Ireland's past and hope for a better future. For me it just resonates. By a lonely prison wall I heard a young girl calling "Michael, they have taken you away For you stole Trevelyan's corn So the young might see the morn Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay" Low lie the fields of Athenry Where once we watched the small free birds fly Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry By a lonely prison wall I heard a young man calling "Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free Against the famine and the crown I rebelled, they cut me down Now you must raise our child with dignity" Low lie the fields of Athenry Where once we watched the small free birds fly Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry By a lonely harbour wall She watched the last star falling As that prison ship sailed out against the sky For she lived in hope and pray For her love in Botany Bay It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry Low lie the fields of Athenry Where once we watched the small free birds fly Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry Songwriter: Pete St. John |
| O fado 🇵🇹 Went to hear fado in Evora last April; but I remember the first time I heard this in Coimbra. Fado can be funny but I prefer the bittersweet laments. I sing "A vida tem mais encanto na hora da despedida" Life is most enchanting at the hour of saying goodbye. I would sing it to Jimmy Carter if I could. He's had a long fulfilled life. I wish him well. At 98 it's time to let go. We faced this last year when my mother died in March at 99. This evening I was brought home by a young man of 81 years on his peddle cab. I was thrilled. May he too have an enchanted end; may he have many more years of health. In the past I couldn't hold back the tears when I sang this song. Tonight I don't want to wake up Ponnya. Yes... life can be sweet at the end. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Que as lágrimas do meu pranto São a luz que me dá vida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Quem me dera estar contente Enganar minha dor Mas a saudade não mente Se é verdadeiro o amor. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Não me tentes enganar Com a tua formosura Que para além do luar Há sempre uma noite escura. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Que as lágrimas do meu pranto São a luz que lhe dá vida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. Coimbra tem mais encanto Na hora da despedida. |
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