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I had a number of very strong personalities in my family. My father was a concert flutist, the solo flute for Toscanini.

quote by Francis Ford Coppola
Added by Lucian Velea
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Going Solo

She left a message after the tone,
I hear it over and over on the answer phone.
No one can find her, address unknown.
She just decided to go out and make it alone.
Solo, solo,
My little child is going solo.
Solo, solo,
My little child is going solo.
I feel like crying, Im in a rage.
I cant understand why she just ran away.
What made it happen, guess well never know.
She just decided to go out and make it solo.
Solo, solo, solo, solo, solo.
We work like dogs all of our lives,
Like millions of other husbands and wives.
Sent her through college, didnt care what we spent.
Think of how we feel,
She didnt say, she didnt ask, she just went.
Solo, solo,
My little child, youre going solo.
Its like a pattern, its like a crime,
We see it happen time after time.
You raise your children, you watch them grow,
Then one day its good-bye, theyve decided theyre going solo.
Solo, solo, solo, solo, solo.
The toys are forgotten, now it appears,
Youve let them down after all of these years.
Sacrificed all, now theres nothing to show,
Ungrateful youth, decided youre going solo.
Solo, solo,
My little child, youre going solo.
Solo, solo,
Ungrateful youth, youre going solo.
The obligations, all of the ties,
Have got to be broken so you can survive.
Just because they gave you life, they cant stop if you grow,
Now they cant hold you back cause youre going solo

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Snakes

Open the basket
Listen to the flute play
Open the basket
Listen to the flute play
Toot toot toot play
Snakes in the basket
Lie to lead you astray
Snakes in the basket
Force to make you betray
Your innermost truth hidden away

Now you're falling down to the underground
Slither down to your lair
Hidden in the many trenches of a hopeless war
Those who were sold out by a corporate board

Carry the casket
Never mind the gun spray
Bury the casket
Pawns in someone's gameplay
Shoot shoot shoot obey

Now you're falling down to the underground
Slither down to your lair
Hidden in the many trenches of a hopeless war
Those who were sold out by a corporate board

Listen to the flute play
Listen to the flute play
Listen to the flute play

Subscription to the spreading of lies
Soldier catches a glimpse of his demise deep down inside
Even he knows snakes come in many shapes and sizes
Many shapes and sizes
Snakes have no hands to be tied

Concoction of malicious lies
Deep inside the general despises himself
Listen to the flute play
Another reptile in line
Snakes without grass cannot hide

Now you're falling down to the underground
Slither down to your lair
Hidden in the many trenches of a hopeless war
Those who were sold out by a corporate board
Now you're falling down to the underground
Slither down to your lair
Forked tongues spread the poison with another toxic sting

[...] Read more

song performed by No Doubt from Beacon Street Collection
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The Cenci : A Tragedy In Five Acts

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

Count Francesco Cenci.
Giacomo, his Son.
Bernardo, his Son.
Cardinal Camillo.
Orsino, a Prelate.
Savella, the Pope's Legate.
Olimpio, Assassin.
Marzio, Assassin.
Andrea, Servant to Cenci.
Nobles, Judges, Guards, Servants.
Lucretia, Wife of Cenci, and Step-mother of his children.
Beatrice, his Daughter.

The Scene lies principally in Rome, but changes during the Fourth Act to Petrella, a castle among the Apulian Apennines.
Time. During the Pontificate of Clement VIII.

ACT I

Scene I.
-An Apartment in the Cenci Palace.
Enter Count Cenci, and Cardinal Camillo.

Camillo.
That matter of the murder is hushed up
If you consent to yield his Holiness
Your fief that lies beyond the Pincian gate.-
It needed all my interest in the conclave
To bend him to this point: he said that you
Bought perilous impunity with your gold;
That crimes like yours if once or twice compounded
Enriched the Church, and respited from hell
An erring soul which might repent and live:-
But that the glory and the interest
Of the high throne he fills, little consist
With making it a daily mart of guilt
As manifold and hideous as the deeds
Which you scarce hide from men's revolted eyes.

Cenci.
The third of my possessions-let it go!
Ay, I once heard the nephew of the Pope
Had sent his architect to view the ground,
Meaning to build a villa on my vines
The next time I compounded with his uncle:
I little thought he should outwit me so!

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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First Book

OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.

I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.

I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Redemption Poem

When satan fell,
for one wrong mistake.
He was thrown in hell,
it was all he could take.
For there was still light in him,
but with it was now doubt.
Upon his face grew a grin,
all he did was rage and shout.
He yelled to God 'Why did it have to be me? ',
but he didnt answer,
and satan did see.
That hell was his to rule,
with unimaginable pain,
he would truly be cruel.
To all the lost souls,
he was their Dark King.
With their blood in his bowl,
in their pain,
for him they would sing.
Over the eons he became insane,
but there was still light in him.
Hidden in a deep part of his soul,
a place he forgot to know.
And one day their blood spilled out of the bowl,
he felt something stir.
A sadness so deep,
with a pain so true.
He could never sleep,
so the pain was all he could know.
As he sat there,
with tears in his eyes,
he thought noone was there,
noone to hear his cries.
He heard a voice,
and this is what it said 'Son why do you cry? '
He couldnt believe what he heard,
and was voiceless.
God said 'Son your here by your own choice'.
And with that he felt,
in numerous times,
all the pain he had delt.
And now he seen,
that little light,
he could find that little gleam.
He fell to his knees,
for all to see.
He prayed to God,
saying 'Father can i be saved? '.
'Am i doomed to live a life in this darkness? '.
And God said to satan 'My son all you had to do was accept your choice',

[...] Read more

poem by Nick Wingler
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Go Solo

Music and lyrics: hall
You need to make it on your own
You wanna shake it go it alone
Whatever happened?
I did alright by you
I can feel the passion girl
Its still as strong
Though the places have turned around
Oh I can be the one to wait
You take the easy way out
Im no one to doubt
(if that aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo, solo
You say theres trouble in paradise
Im only joking but you better be right
Oh, whatever happens, there aint no turnin round
I can understand you need to find yourself
Make a way without any help
Oh I can be the one who waits
To take the only way out
Im no one to doubt
(if that aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo, solo
I dont mind your flying blind
Just shake it up and take it to the break this time
Shake it up and take it to the break this time
This time, oh
Shake it up and take it, shake it up and take it girl
(if that aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo, go solo
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo
I could do good somehow
(if it aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo, oh girl
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo
Oh, shake it up and take it, shake it up and take it

[...] Read more

song performed by Hall & Oates
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Siamo Solo Noi

Siamo solo noi
che andiamo a letto la mattina presto
e ci svegliamo con il mal di testa
siamo solo noi
che non abbiamo vita regolare
che non ci sappiamo limitare
siamo solo noi
che non abbiamo pi rispetto per niente
neanche per la mente
siamo solo noi
quelli che poi muoiono presto
quelli che per lo stesso.
Siamo solo noi
che non abbiamo pi niente da dire
dobbiamo solo vomitare
siamo solo noi
che non vi stiamo neanche pi ad
ascoltare.
Siamo solo noi
quelli che non han pi rispetto per niente
neanche per la gente
siamo solo noi
quelli che ormai non credono pi a niente
e vi fregano sempre.
Siamo solo noi
che tra demonio e santit lo stesso
basta che ci sia posto
siamo solo noi
che facciamo colazione anche con un toast del resto.
Siamo solo noi
quelli che non han voglia di far niente
rubano solamente
siamo solo noi
generazione di sconvolti
che non han pi santi n eroi
siamo solo noi
siamo solo noi
siamo solo noi...

song performed by Vasco Rossi
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No Me Dejes De Querer

Nunca quiero ni pensar
que tus ojos me dejen de ver
no encontraras amor
que como yo te sea siempre fiel
(jrame) que me ver siempre en tus ojos
(bsame) con tus labios dulces
(sabor a miel) que a tu lado solo queiro estar
(y no hay quien) me llene de tanta ternura
(con tu amor) puedo llegar hasta la luna
(escchame) no me dejes de quereeeeeeeer
coro:
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
Que solo solo solo yo vivo por tu querer
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que triste triste me pongo cuando no estas a mi lado en la noche
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
solo vivo por tu amor, me hace falta tu querer
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que no no me dejes de querer, no me dejes de querer
(jrame) que me ver siempre en tus ojos
(bsame) con tus labios dulces
(sabor a miel) que a tu lado solo queiro estar
(y no hay quien) me llene de tanta ternura
(con tu amor) yo puedo llegar hasta la luna
(escchame) no me dejes de querer
coro:
solo te pido
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que no me dejes, no me dejes, no me dejes de querer
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que tu sabes que yo vivo por tu piel
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que cuando toy pensando enti mira me siento muy feliz
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
ay no me dejes (de querer)

song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Disagreeable Musician

'E wouldn't play the flute; the sulky cow.
An', after all the trouble that we took
To try an' cheer,'is spirits up some'ow,
'E jes' sat there an' slung a glarsy look
To orl the crowd. The diserbligin' coot!
'E wouldn't play the flute.

After we'd done our gilt in on the spread
Fish from the Dago joint, an' bottled beer,
An' froot, an' 'am, an' saverloys an' bread
'E wouldn't eat. Jes' shook 'is silly 'ead.
An' though we begged 'im for some choonful toot,
'E wouldn't play the flute.

I puts it to yeh: Wuz we actin' fair?
Wot more could neighbors do to cheer a bloke?
We knoo they 'e 'ad troubles fer to bear,
An' jes called in to 'ave a friendly joke.
An', though we tempted 'im with 'am an' froot,
'E wouldn't play the flute.

There wuz Flash Liz, an' me, an' Ginger Mick.
An' Mother Gumphy frum the corner store.
An' Bill the Rabbit-o, an' Dirty Dick,
An' Nan the Nark, an' 'arf a dozzing more.
But strike! It seemed the comp'ny didn't soot!
'E wouldn't play the flute.

I want yer dead straight griffen. Wuz we right?
Wuz it unneighborly to look 'im up
An' 'ave a little beano on the quite?....
Fer Grief an' 'im wuz cobbers on that night.
But there 'e sat, like 's if 'e'd taken root,
An' wouldn't play the flute.

We sung a song er two to give 'im 'eart,
'An' jes' to show yeh wot a nark 'e wuz,
'E wouldn't sing. 'E wouldn't take no part.
'E wouldn't eat no matter wot we does.
'E wouldn't drink, 'e wouldn't touch the froot.
Or play 'is flamin' flute.

A blimed wet blankit at our little feast.
Thet's wot 'e wuz. 'E jes sat there an' stared
Straight out afore 'im. Wouldn't take the least

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Grains

What's the relationship
between a grain of rice
and its stalk or the stem of the
rice plants? The corelation between
the two is in other words
the source and the results
that will reap what the source
had told it to produce
in the beginning when
the source let the stem out
in a sprout form
the weed that many farmers had to toil
in hot sunny days to replant
in another rice field with some water
underneath. Water! Yes.
It's the source for life along with
the source that is planted under the ground
where the water was filled in with.
'I am going to see if the rice pad is safe
from this night storm.' In my bed side
I heard father say these words before
he put on his rain coat and boots
at 2 or 3 in the morning the good farmer
the good father the good pharmacist father
my father, he was so worried to think about
the rice fields with so much water ruin them.
It's in the midnight or after that and he...
with no other assistants was willing to
walk through the pouring rain on one
day in July that summer when he asked
me to stay in bed cozy while leaving for the
fields by himself. I slid down the blanket
though it was the summer time, was a bit
chilly for the storm the pouring rain
made the temperature quite low and
I felt cold after father had gone a far from
the house. I was so lone that moment
thinking about my father wondering where
he might be on which road he might be
treading upon what kind of gravels or
maybe some frogs dead flat or some
wet insects like the Yochee or Maettugee.
The rain usually wet those small insects
only to make them jump high and tremble
with cold and shake off the water from
their bodies. But it's the water that gives
them the life the food the fresh air, the feeling
of aliveness the inspiration God had granted
to all His creations. Yes, those small creatures
might have to escape from my father's boots

[...] Read more

poem by Sangnam Nam
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Zero Covers All

Lately I realize.
I am a numb number,
living through life.
First child.
Date of birth.
Sixth star of twenty-seven.
Scorpio numbers six of twelve.
Studied tenth class,
Then 5-year’s graduation,
Every class I had a scroll number.
Exams written on id number.
Studied law.
Head churning three years,
with numbered sections.
Penal code, constitution.
Clauses of law in numbered sects.
Registered in bar council.
Legal practice.
Case files are numbered.
Subsequently I got,
House number, door number.
Phone number.
Mobile number.
Account numbers.
Credit card number.
Pan card number,
Folio numbers,
Car number,
License number,
Policy number,
Health card number,
Election card number,
Passport number,
Ration card number,
Ultimately, when you put me in morgue,
allotted me a number.
Which, I do no know.
However, I know a number.
I am a big zero.
It covers all my life
Yes, we discovered zero.
What a relief?
Does it not cover all?
fulfill all values!
By the way your number please?
X number or N number?
Infinite numbers.
________________

poem by Satheesan Rangorath
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Every Christian Lion Hearted Man Will Show You

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

Take this in hand
Said he who stands
Behind the chair
A broken table there

Every Christian lion hearted man will show you
Every Christian lion hearted man will show you

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

Don't walk so tall
Before you crawl
For every child
Is thinking of something wild

Every Christian lion hearted man will show you
Every Christian lion hearted man will show you

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

Every Christian lion hearted man will show you
Every Christian lion hearted man will show you (will show you)

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

song performed by Bee Gees from Bee Gees 1st
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Odyssey: Book 1

Tell me, o muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide
after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit,
and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was
acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save
his own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he
could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer
folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the god
prevented them from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about all
these things, O daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may
know them.
So now all who escaped death in battle or by shipwreck had got
safely home except Ulysses, and he, though he was longing to return to
his wife and country, was detained by the goddess Calypso, who had got
him into a large cave and wanted to marry him. But as years went by,
there came a time when the gods settled that he should go back to
Ithaca; even then, however, when he was among his own people, his
troubles were not yet over; nevertheless all the gods had now begun to
pity him except Neptune, who still persecuted him without ceasing
and would not let him get home.
Now Neptune had gone off to the Ethiopians, who are at the world's
end, and lie in two halves, the one looking West and the other East.
He had gone there to accept a hecatomb of sheep and oxen, and was
enjoying himself at his festival; but the other gods met in the
house of Olympian Jove, and the sire of gods and men spoke first. At
that moment he was thinking of Aegisthus, who had been killed by
Agamemnon's son Orestes; so he said to the other gods:
"See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all
nothing but their own folly. Look at Aegisthus; he must needs make
love to Agamemnon's wife unrighteously and then kill Agamemnon, though
he knew it would be the death of him; for I sent Mercury to warn him
not to do either of these things, inasmuch as Orestes would be sure to
take his revenge when he grew up and wanted to return home. Mercury
told him this in all good will but he would not listen, and now he has
paid for everything in full."
Then Minerva said, "Father, son of Saturn, King of kings, it
served Aegisthus right, and so it would any one else who does as he
did; but Aegisthus is neither here nor there; it is for Ulysses that
my heart bleeds, when I think of his sufferings in that lonely
sea-girt island, far away, poor man, from all his friends. It is an
island covered with forest, in the very middle of the sea, and a
goddess lives there, daughter of the magician Atlas, who looks after
the bottom of the ocean, and carries the great columns that keep
heaven and earth asunder. This daughter of Atlas has got hold of
poor unhappy Ulysses, and keeps trying by every kind of blandishment
to make him forget his home, so that he is tired of life, and thinks
of nothing but how he may once more see the smoke of his own chimneys.
You, sir, take no heed of this, and yet when Ulysses was before Troy
did he not propitiate you with many a burnt sacrifice? Why then should
you keep on being so angry with him?"
And Jove said, "My child, what are you talking about? How can I

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Divorced from Dumb Reality - Number Lesson on Numb Pointless Love

DIVORCED FROM DUMB REALITY
My fun begun with number one,
swore to be true to number two,
happy to be with number three,
then to adore fair number four.
No more alive is number five,
mix stones and sticks Styx number six,
who’s in heaven, number seven?
its now too late for number eight.
Another line for number nine,
begin again with number ten.

13 May 1982 revised 20 January 2009

robi03_0199_robi03_0000 WXX_LXX

for previous version entitled Numbers see below

Numbers

My fun begun with number one,
swore to be true to number two,
happy to be with number three,
then to adore sweet number four.
No more alive is number five,
beset by tics was number six,
she’s in heaven, number seven,
its now too late for number eight.
Another line for number nine,
begin again for number ten.

13 May 1982

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Piedra de Sol

La treizième revient...c’est encor la première;
et c’est toujours la seule-ou c’est le seul moment;
car es-tu reine, ô toi, la première ou dernière?
es-tu roi, toi le seul ou le dernier amant?
Gérard de Nerval, Arthèmis
Un sauce de cristal, un chopo de agua,
un alto surtidor que el viento arquea,
un árbol bien plantado mas danzante,
un caminar de río que se curva,
avanza, retrocede, da un rodeo
y llega siempre:
un caminar tranquilo
de estrella o primavera sin premura,
agua que con los párpados cerrados
mana toda la noche profecías,
unánime presencia en oleaje,
ola tras ola hasta cubrirlo todo,
verde soberanía sin ocaso
como el deslumbramiento de las alas
cuando se abren en mitad del cielo,
un caminar entre las espesuras
de los días futuros y el aciago
fulgor de la desdicha como un ave
petrificando el bosque con su canto
y las felicidades inminentes
entre las ramas que se desvanecen,
horas de luz que pican ya los pájaros,
presagios que se escapan de la mano,

una presencia como un canto súbito,
como el viento cantando en el incendio,
una mirada que sostiene en vilo
al mundo con sus mares y sus montes,
cuerpo de luz filtrado por un ágata,
piernas de luz, vientre de luz, bahías,
roca solar, cuerpo color de nube,
color de día rápido que salta,
la hora centellea y tiene cuerpo,
el mundo ya es visible por tu cuerpo,
es transparente por tu transparencia,

voy entre galerías de sonidos,
fluyo entre las presencias resonantes,
voy por las transparencias como un ciego,
un reflejo me borra, nazco en otro,
oh bosque de pilares encantados,
bajo los arcos de la luz penetro
los corredores de un otoño diáfano,

voy por tu cuerpo como por el mundo,

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poem by Octavio Paz
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Solo Quiero Amarte

(spanish version of nobody wants to be lonely)
Aqu estoy en mi soledad
Dentro de m ser
Solo hay tristeza
Lo he dado todo por salvar t amor
Que se va perdiendo
Necesito tenerte
Quedat junto a m,
Ven conmigo
Sin t me siento tan solo
Sin t no puedo ms
Mi cuerpo pide t cuerpo
T alma acariciar
Aunque intento no lo puedo encontrar
Si algn secreto se esconde en t piel
Sin t me siento tan solo
No vivo, por que no puedo amarte
Why? , why? , why?
Solo t podrs darle la pasin
A m corazn que no esta latiendo
En tus besos quiero desahogar
Este sentimiento
Y te busco en mis sue? os
Quedat junto a m, te deseo
Sin t me siento tan solo
Sin t no puedo ms
Mi cuerpo pide t cuerpo
T alma acariciar
Aunque intento no lo puedo encontrar
Si algn secreto se esconde en t piel
Sin t me siento tan solo
No vivo, por qu no puedo amarte
Why? , why? , why?
Sabes que estoy muriendo
Por que te siento lejos
Devuelveme mi pasin
Todo mi amor, m corazn
Regresa dios de m vida
No, no, no, no
Sin t me siento tan solo
Sin t no puedo ms
Chorus
Sin t me siento tan solo
No quiero estar solo
Sin t no puedo ms
Ya no puedo ms
Mi cuerpo pide t cuerpo
T cuerpo y m cuerpo
T alma acariciar
Aunque intento no lo puedo encontrar

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song performed by Ricky Martin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Public Animal #9

Me and G.B.
We ain't never gonna confess
We cheated at the math test
We carved some dirty words in our desk
Well now it's time for recess
Old man waitin by the monkey bars
Tradin all his ball cards
And they promised him a gold star
And they told him he could go far
Hey Mr. Bluelegs
Where are you takin me?
I'm like a lifer
In the state penitentiary
If I keep my nose clean
I won't get my eyes shined
But I'm proud to be
Public Animal Number Nine
License plates are runnin
Out of my ears
I'd give a month of cigarettes
For just a couple of lousy beers
Or even a bottle of
Real cheap wi-hine
But that's the price you pay to be
Public Animal Number Nine, Number Nine
Hey Mrs. Cranston
Where are you takin me?
I feel like a lifer
In the state penitentiary
She wanted an Einstein
But she got a Frankenstein
Yeah, I'm proud to be
Public Animal Number Niiiirrrrrgh
Public Animal Number Nine
Public Animal Number Nine
Public Animal Number Nine Nine
Public Animal Number Nine Number Nine
Number Nine Number Nine
Number, Number Nine Animal Number Nine
Public Animal Number Nine Nine
Public Animal Numbergh Niiiirrrrrgh
Public Animal Nurrrgh Nirrrgh
Errrrrrrrrrrrgh
Public Animal Number Ni-yine
Public Animal Number Ni-yine
Public Animal Number Number Nine Nine
Public Animal Naaaaaaaagh

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Iliad: Book 5

Then Pallas Minerva put valour into the heart of Diomed, son of
Tydeus, that he might excel all the other Argives, and cover himself
with glory. She made a stream of fire flare from his shield and helmet
like the star that shines most brilliantly in summer after its bath in
the waters of Oceanus- even such a fire did she kindle upon his head
and shoulders as she bade him speed into the thickest hurly-burly of
the fight.
Now there was a certain rich and honourable man among the Trojans,
priest of Vulcan, and his name was Dares. He had two sons, Phegeus and
Idaeus, both of them skilled in all the arts of war. These two came
forward from the main body of Trojans, and set upon Diomed, he being
on foot, while they fought from their chariot. When they were close up
to one another, Phegeus took aim first, but his spear went over
Diomed's left shoulder without hitting him. Diomed then threw, and his
spear sped not in vain, for it hit Phegeus on the breast near the
nipple, and he fell from his chariot. Idaeus did not dare to
bestride his brother's body, but sprang from the chariot and took to
flight, or he would have shared his brother's fate; whereon Vulcan
saved him by wrapping him in a cloud of darkness, that his old
father might not be utterly overwhelmed with grief; but the son of
Tydeus drove off with the horses, and bade his followers take them
to the ships. The Trojans were scared when they saw the two sons of
Dares, one of them in fright and the other lying dead by his
chariot. Minerva, therefore, took Mars by the hand and said, "Mars,
Mars, bane of men, bloodstained stormer of cities, may we not now
leave the Trojans and Achaeans to fight it out, and see to which of
the two Jove will vouchsafe the victory? Let us go away, and thus
avoid his anger."
So saying, she drew Mars out of the battle, and set him down upon
the steep banks of the Scamander. Upon this the Danaans drove the
Trojans back, and each one of their chieftains killed his man. First
King Agamemnon flung mighty Odius, captain of the Halizoni, from his
chariot. The spear of Agamemnon caught him on the broad of his back,
just as he was turning in flight; it struck him between the
shoulders and went right through his chest, and his armour rang
rattling round him as he fell heavily to the ground.
Then Idomeneus killed Phaesus, son of Borus the Meonian, who had
come from Varne. Mighty Idomeneus speared him on the right shoulder as
he was mounting his chariot, and the darkness of death enshrouded
him as he fell heavily from the car.
The squires of Idomeneus spoiled him of his armour, while
Menelaus, son of Atreus, killed Scamandrius the son of Strophius, a
mighty huntsman and keen lover of the chase. Diana herself had
taught him how to kill every kind of wild creature that is bred in
mountain forests, but neither she nor his famed skill in archery could
now save him, for the spear of Menelaus struck him in the back as he
was flying; it struck him between the shoulders and went right through
his chest, so that he fell headlong and his armour rang rattling round
him.
Meriones then killed Phereclus the son of Tecton, who was the son of

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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Eclogue 8: To Pollio Damon Alphesiboeus

Of Damon and Alphesiboeus now,
Those shepherd-singers at whose rival strains
The heifer wondering forgot to graze,
The lynx stood awe-struck, and the flowing streams,
Unwonted loiterers, stayed their course to hear-
How Damon and Alphesiboeus sang
Their pastoral ditties, will I tell the tale.

Thou, whether broad Timavus' rocky banks
Thou now art passing, or dost skirt the shore
Of the Illyrian main,- will ever dawn
That day when I thy deeds may celebrate,
Ever that day when through the whole wide world
I may renown thy verse- that verse alone
Of Sophoclean buskin worthy found?
With thee began, to thee shall end, the strain.
Take thou these songs that owe their birth to thee,
And deign around thy temples to let creep
This ivy-chaplet 'twixt the conquering bays.

Scarce had night's chilly shade forsook the sky
What time to nibbling sheep the dewy grass
Tastes sweetest, when, on his smooth shepherd-staff
Of olive leaning, Damon thus began.

DAMON
'Rise, Lucifer, and, heralding the light,
Bring in the genial day, while I make moan
Fooled by vain passion for a faithless bride,
For Nysa, and with this my dying breath
Call on the gods, though little it bestead-
The gods who heard her vows and heeded not.

'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Ever hath Maenalus his murmuring groves
And whispering pines, and ever hears the songs
Of love-lorn shepherds, and of Pan, who first
Brooked not the tuneful reed should idle lie.

'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Nysa to Mopsus given! what may not then
We lovers look for? soon shall we see mate
Griffins with mares, and in the coming age
Shy deer and hounds together come to drink.

'Begin, my flute, with me Maenalian lays.
Now, Mopsus, cut new torches, for they bring
Your bride along; now, bridegroom, scatter nuts:
Forsaking Oeta mounts the evening star!

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poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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