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The Sisterhood of Night

Cast: Georgie Henley, Kara Hayward, Laura Fraser, Kal Penn, Hudson Yang, Olivia DeJonge, Louis Ozawa Changchien, Orlagh Cassidy

trailer for The Sisterhood of Night, directed by Caryn Waechter, screenplay by Marilyn Fu, inspired by Steven Millhauser (2015)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Yang Yang

Yang yang holds on to a giant phone,
Yang yangs soft voice goes on and on,
I hate you, I hate you, where did it go wrong?
Yangyang goes talking to himself on the phone.
Yang yang sends his men pebbles and stones,
Yang yang rips his women down to the bones.
I own you, I own you, so give us a song,
Yangyang goes talking to his world on the phone.
Yang yangs born with a phone cord round his neck,
Yang yang never fails to stick to his kick.
I want you, I want you, youre making me sick.
But yangyang, the chords never long enough
To reach your mommys trick.
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang, snap out,
Give up, cut out,
Tune up and join us,
Join the revolution,
Join the revolution.
No kick is good enough for lifetime substitution,
No brick will give you a lifetime consolation.
And whether you dig it or not,
We outnumber you in population.
And leave your private institution,
Get down to real communication,
Leave your scene of destruction
And join us in revolution.
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang yang yang yang,
Yang yang, wake up,
Give up, cut out,
Come out and join us,
Join the revolution,
Join the revolution.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Goblin Market

MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries--
All ripe together
In summer weather--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy."

Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger-tips.
"Lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
"O! cried Lizzie, Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men."

[...] Read more

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Killing Of Georgie

(Rod Stewart)
In these days of changing ways
so called liberated days
a story comes to mind of a friend of mine
Georgie boy was gay I guess
nothin' more or nothin' less
the kindest guy I ever knew
His mother's tears fell in vain
the afternoon George tried to explain
that he needed love like all the rest
Pa said there must be a mistake
how can my son not be straight
after all I've said and done for him
Leavin' home on a Greyhound bus
cast out by the ones he loves
A victim of these gay days it seems
Georgie went to New York town
where he quickly settled down
and soon became the toast of the great white way
Accepted by Manhattan's elite
in all the places that were chic
No party was complete without George
Along the boulevards he'd cruise
and all the old queens blew a fuse
Everybody loved Georgie boy
The last time I saw George alive
was in the summer of seventy-five
he said he was in love I said I'm pleased
George attended the opening night
of another Broadway hype
but split before the final curtain fell
Deciding to take a short cut home
arm in arm they meant no wrong
A gentle breeze blew down Fifth Avenue
Out of a darkened side street came
a New Jersey gang with just one aim
to roll some innocent passer-by
There ensued a fearful fight
screams rang out in the night
Georgie's head hit a sidewalk cornerstone
A leather kid, a switchblade knife
He did not intend to take his life
He just pushed his luck a little too far that night
The sight of blood dispersed the gang
A crowd gathered, the police came
An ambulance screamed to a halt on Fifty-third and Third
Georgie's life ended there
but I ask who really cares
George once said to me and I quote
He said 'Never wait or hesitate

[...] Read more

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beppo

I.
'Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout
All countries of the Catholic persuasion,
Some weeks before Shrove Tuesday comes about,
The people take their fill of recreation,
And buy repentance, ere they grow devout,
However high their rank, or low their station,
With fiddling, feasting, dancing, drinking, masking,
And other things which may be had for asking.

II.
The moment night with dusky mantle covers
The skies (and the more duskily the better),
The time less liked by husbands than by lovers
Begins, and prudery flings aside her fetter;
And gaiety on restless tiptoe hovers,
Giggling with all the gallants who beset her;
And there are songs and quavers, roaring, humming,
Guitars, and every other sort of strumming.

III.
And there are dresses splendid, but fantastical,
Masks of all times and nations, Turks and Jews,
And harlequins and clowns, with feats gymnastical,
Greeks, Romans, Yankee-doodles, and Hindoos;
All kinds of dress, except the ecclesiastical,
All people, as their fancies hit, may choose,
But no one in these parts may quiz the clergy, —
Therefore take heed, ye Freethinkers! I charge ye.

IV.
You'd better walk about begirt with briars,
Instead of coat and smallclothes, than put on
A single stitch reflecting upon friars,
Although you swore it only was in fun;
They'd haul you o'er the coals, and stir the fires
Of Phlegethon with every mother's son,
Nor say one mass to cool the caldron's bubble
That boil'd your bones, unless you paid them double.

V.
But saving this, you may put on whate'er
You like by way of doublet, cape, or cloak.
Such as in Monmouth-street, or in Rag Fair,
Would rig you out in seriousness or joke;
And even in Italy such places are,
With prettier name in softer accents spoke,
For, bating Covent Garden, I can hit on
No place that's called "Piazza" in Great Britain.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Beppo, A Venetian Story

I.
'Tis known, at least it should be, that throughout
All countries of the Catholic persuasion,
Some weeks before Shrove Tuesday comes about,
The People take their fill of recreation,
And buy repentance, ere they grow devout,
However high their rank, or low their station,
With fiddling, feasting, dancing, drinking, masking,
And other things which may be had for asking.

II.
The moment Night with dusky mantle covers
The skies (and the more duskily the better),
The Time--less liked by husbands than by lovers--
Begins, and Prudery flings aside her fetter,
And Gaiety on restless tiptoe hovers,
Giggling with all the Gallants who beset her;
And there are Songs and quavers, roaring, humming,
Guitars, and every other sort of strumming.

III.
And there are dresses, splendid but fantastical,
Masks of all times and nations, Turks and Jews,
And Harlequins and Clowns, with feats gymnastical,
Greeks, Romans, Yankee-doodles, and Hindoos;
All kinds of dress, except the ecclesiastical,
All people, as their fancies hit, may choose,
But no one in these parts may quiz the Clergy,--
Therefore take heed, ye Freethinkers! I charge ye.

IV.
You'd better walk about begirt with briars,
Instead of Coat and smallclothes, than put on
A single stitch reflecting upon Friars,
Although you swore it only was in fun;
They'd haul you o'er the coals, and stir the fires
Of Phlegethon with every mother's son,
Nor say one Mass to cool the Caldron's bubble
That boil'd your bones--unless you paid them double.

V.
But saving this, you may put on whate'er
You like by way of doublet, cape, or cloak,
Such as in Monmouth Street, or in Rag Fair,
Would rig you out in Seriousness or Joke;
And even in Italy such places are
With prettier name in softer accents spoke,
For, bating Covent Garden, I can hit on
No place that's called 'Piazza' in Great Britain.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Louis Xvi Of France

louis sixteenth of france
louis sixteenth of franc
louis sixteenth of fran
louis sixteenth of fra
louis sixteenth of fr
louis sixteenth of f
louis sixteenth of
louis sixteenth o
louis sixteenth
louis sixteent
louis sixteen
louis sixtee
louis sixte
louis sixt
louis six
louis si
louis s
louis
loui
lou
lo
l

poem by Nicolas Grenier
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You Say Keep It Gangsta (feat. Butch Cassidy And Sharissa)

[B] Wyclef, Butch Cassidy, Sharissa
[W] What up
[S] Unnnnnh!
[B] From the West Indies to the West Coast
[W] Callabo
[B] You say keep it gangsta
[Chorus: Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
But when the beef come, you're the first to run (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Yo, that ain't your gun, it belongs to... (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
You roll with a hundred, but when the beef come don't nobody want it
(Gangster, la la la la, la la la la)
[Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
I want to dedicate this chant to my people locked down livin life in the yard
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Keep a shank boofed up in their tape just in case a thug wanna play hard
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
All this ice-grillin talk bout you King of New York, now you wanna call a guard
(THAT AIN'T GANGSTA)
But it's too late when the guard show up cause your body's going straight to the morgue
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
[Chorus: Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
But when the beef come, you're the first to run (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Yo, that ain't your gun, it belongs to... (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
You roll with a hundred, but when the beef come don't nobody want it
(...GANGSTER)
[Butch Cassidy] (Wyclef & Sharissa)
I wanna dedicate this jam to the ladies holdin spots when they fellows lock down
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Keep a glock in they pocket blowin shots till they pray I'm in town
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
And to the snitch that ratted on rich the streets got you 16 rounds
(THAT AIN'T GANGSTA)
But theres only one place for a gully rat, six feet under the ground
(YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
I'm gon keep it gangsta
(YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
La la la la, la la la la
(YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
[Chorus: Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
You roll with a hundred, but when the beef come don't nobody want it
(...GANGSTER)
[Big Jack] (Butch Cassidy)
Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up
Yo, stop with the posin
Y'all ain't really holdin
I'm about to open, a chapter of the Omen
Casket, closin, bodies, frozen
I've, been chosen, y'all forsaken
Ante up, so the chains get taken
Flash backs of the rock season in the making

[...] Read more

song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sang Pujaan

Dia terus saja memandangmu
Gadis yang melihat dari atas jendela
Dan gadis yang berpapasan di jalan
Dia jelas-jelas mengagumimu
Gadis pembuat kue
Dan gadis anak penjahit
Tapi mungkin kau tak menyadarinya
Hatimu begitu dingin dan acuh
Dia pasti mengincarmu
Gadis putri tuan tanah
Dan gadis penyanyi bar itu
Dia juga diam-diam mencintaimu
Gadis pemalu yang tak sanggup memandangmu
Dan gadis sahabat yang ada di dekatmu
Tapi mungkin kau tak peduli
Hatimu sangat dingin dan tak tersentuh

Siapakah dia yang akan kau ajak ke pesta?
Siapakah dia yang akan kau ajak berdansa?
Gadis yang cantikkah atau biasa saja
Siapakah dia yang akan kau pilih?
Siapakah dia yang mencuri perhatianmu?
Gadis yang ceriakah atau gadis yang lembut
Seisi kota begitu ingin tahu tentangmu
Tapi kau masih saja berjalan dengan santai
Mengapa kau begitu mempesona setiap gadis?
Mengapa tak kau pilih salah satu saja?
Gadis yang kau kenal baik atau gadis yang dijodohkan
Berilah kesempatan pada para gadis untuk mendapatkanmu
Juga beri kesempatan para pria untuk mendapat gadis
Bila tak juga mencari seisi kota akan menjadi gila
Dia yang mencintaimu akan menyelamatkanmu
Dia yang kau cintai akan menyelamatkan kami semua!

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;

Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Archduchess Anne

1--I

In middle age an evil thing
Befell Archduchess Anne:
She looked outside her wedding-ring
Upon a princely man.

II

Count Louis was for horse and arms;
And if its beacon waved,
For love; but ladies had not charms
To match a danger braved.

III

On battlefields he was the bow
Bestrung to fly the shaft:
In idle hours his heart would flow
As winds on currents waft.

IV

His blood was of those warrior tribes
That streamed from morning's fire,
Whom now with traps and now with bribes
The wily Council wire.

V

Archduchess Anne the Council ruled,
Count Louis his great dame;
And woe to both when one had cooled!
Little was she to blame.

VI

Among her chiefs who spun their plots,
Old Kraken stood the sword:
As sharp his wits for cutting knots
Of babble he abhorred.

VII

He reverenced her name and line,
Nor other merit had
Save soldierwise to wait her sign,
And do the deed she bade.

VIII

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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Waktu yang Tepat

kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila kita secepat kilat
atau sewaktu berhitung cermat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila bergerak mendekat
atau bersabar menunggu penjerat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila kita melihat
atau ketika tak ada yang berbuat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila kita terus memahat
atau dimana semua sudah tersurat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila kehormatan terdesak
atau kala keberanian terdapat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila musuh merapat
atau sewaktu tak terlambat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila kita menangkap waktu yang sesaat
atau saat melepas semua pemberat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila semua selamat
atau ketika datang mujizat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila emosi memuncak
atau dimana yang berkuasa adalah akal sehat
kapankah waktu yang tepat itu?
apakah bila janji sudah terikat
atau kala hidup dipenuhi karat

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Tale X

THE LOVER'S JOURNEY.

It is the Soul that sees: the outward eyes
Present the object, but the Mind descries;
And thence delight, disgust, or cool indiff'rence

rise:
When minds are joyful, then we look around,
And what is seen is all on fairy ground;
Again they sicken, and on every view
Cast their own dull and melancholy hue;
Or, if absorb'd by their peculiar cares,
The vacant eye on viewless matter glares,
Our feelings still upon our views attend,
And their own natures to the objects lend:
Sorrow and joy are in their influence sure,
Long as the passion reigns th' effects endure;
But Love in minds his various changes makes,
And clothes each object with the change he takes;
His light and shade on every view he throws,
And on each object what he feels bestows.
Fair was the morning, and the month was June,
When rose a Lover;--love awakens soon:
Brief his repose, yet much he dreamt the while
Of that day's meeting, and his Laura's smile:
Fancy and love that name assign'd to her,
Call'd Susan in the parish-register;
And he no more was John--his Laura gave
The name Orlando to her faithful slave.
Bright shone the glory of the rising day,
When the fond traveller took his favourite way;
He mounted gaily, felt his bosom light,
And all he saw was pleasing in his sight.
'Ye hours of expectation, quickly fly,
And bring on hours of bless'd reality;
When I shall Laura see, beside her stand,
Hear her sweet voice, and press her yielded hand.'
First o'er a barren heath beside the coast
Orlando rode, and joy began to boast.
'This neat low gorse,' said he, 'with golden

bloom,
Delights each sense, is beauty, is perfume;
And this gay ling, with all its purple flowers,
A man at leisure might admire for hours;
This green-fringed cup-moss has a scarlet tip,
That yields to nothing but my Laura's lip;
And then how fine this herbage! men may say
A heath is barren; nothing is so gay:
Barren or bare to call such charming scene

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Sebuah bom yang meledak bernama sunyi (Indonesian)

: Teungku Abdullah Syafii in memoriam
(1)

Bilakah ini harinya bom yang engkau lemparkan bersama
Butir udara berinteraksi memekatkan cinta
Yang dinamakan kesumat tak akan ada yang
Bisa kuperbuat kecuali
Menikam waktu dan sebuah bom yang
Meledak engkau sebut sunyi,
Dari lukakah mengalirkan darah
Yang engkau sebut cinta yang
Akhirnya menghantarkan
Pada kilatan api dalam ketiadaan,
Ketiadaan Teungku yang menemukan
Aliran darahnya, ketiadaan hamba tanpa sunyi,
Dan engkau lemparkan sunyi, engkau lemparkan
Kepada waktu:
Sebuah bom meledak bernama sunyi
Lalu aku mencatatnya dengan cinta

(2)

Teungku: duka duri semak ada di dadamu, cinta manakah
Yang hendak dikuburkan, aku tepiskan
Tanpa memilih hidup ini akan dikemanakan
Mungkin bersama bayang-bayang hujan lalu
Sunyi ini akan diberikan kepada siapa?
Siapakah pembunuh waktu yang tak mengerti:
Luka ini berasal juga dari Cinta
Cinta berasal muasal dari duka keabadian
Mungkin kita ini bangsa yang lupa
Bahwa bendera kita bukanlah kemenangan
Tetapi kekalahan berkepanjangan
Sebagai hamba Duli Paduka, cinta manakah?
Bagai berondongan pertanyaan ini menyergap
Dan Teungku: dekaplah damai keabadianMu

(3)

Duka sergap kematian ini semakin lekat, bila moncong menganga
Selalu berarah kepadamu, kenangan apakah
Jejak bayang-bayang hujan terlalu samar
Untuk siapakah engkau kirim kegelisahan ini
Senyap rerumputan memagut lelapmu
Sungai berdiri diam bisu
Menorehkan sederet kebahagiaan
Lewat peluru, mesiu dan bayang-bayang
Mawar, cinta dan kematian
Tak ada yang lebih menarik lagi
Tak ada yang lebih menarik lagi

[...] Read more

poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Padam

Apa yang kau dapatkan, hargailah
Apa yang dipinjam, kembalikan
Sebelum semuanya menghilang
Dan api di dalammu padam
Apa yang kau simpan, rawatlah
Apa yang kau buang, relakan
Bila api di dalam dirimu telah padam
Kenangan pun tak lagi bisa membakar
Mimpi pun tak bisa lagi bersinar
Jadi jangan berhenti dulu
Sebab dewa masih memberimu waktu
Sebelum semuanya memudar
Dan api di dalammu padam

Apa yang kau inginkan, kejarlah
Apa yang kau takuti, hadapi
Sebelum semuanya menghilang
Dalam kegelapan yang kelam
Apa yang kau jaga, sayangilah
Apa yang kau benci, tangisi
Karena bila api yang ada telah padam
Ingatan pun tak lagi berarti
Jalan yang lebar pun tak lagi menarik
Jadi jangan mencemaskan hal yang tak perlu
Sebab meski terlihat tak ada waktu
Dan angin tak mau membantu
Kobaran di dadamu masih belum padam

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Fairy Curate

Once a fairy
Light and airy
Married with a mortal;
Men, however,
Never, never
Pass the fairy portal.
Slyly stealing,
She to Ealing
Made a daily journey;
There she found him,
Clients round him
(He was an attorney).

Long they tarried,
Then they married.
When the ceremony
Once was ended,
Off they wended
On their moon of honey.
Twelvemonth, maybe,
Saw a baby
(Friends performed an orgie).
Much they prized him,
And baptized him
By the name of GEORGIE,

GEORGIE grew up;
Then he flew up
To his fairy mother.
Happy meeting -
Pleasant greeting -
Kissing one another.
"Choose a calling
Most enthralling,
I sincerely urge ye."
"Mother," said he
(Rev'rence made he),
"I would join the clergy.

"Give permission
In addition -
Pa will let me do it:
There's a living
In his giving -
He'll appoint me to it.
Dreams of coff'ring,
Easter off'ring,
Tithe and rent and pew-rate,
So inflame me
(Do not blame me),

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Ballad: The Fairy Curate

Once a fairy
Light and airy
Married with a mortal;
Men, however,
Never, never
Pass the fairy portal.
Slyly stealing,
She to Ealing
Made a daily journey;
There she found him,
Clients round him
(He was an attorney).

Long they tarried,
Then they married.
When the ceremony
Once was ended,
Off they wended
On their moon of honey.
Twelvemonth, maybe,
Saw a baby
(Friends performed an orgie).
Much they prized him,
And baptized him
By the name of GEORGIE,

GEORGIE grew up;
Then he flew up
To his fairy mother.
Happy meeting -
Pleasant greeting -
Kissing one another.
"Choose a calling
Most enthralling,
I sincerely urge ye."
"Mother," said he
(Rev'rence made he),
"I would join the clergy.

"Give permission
In addition -
Pa will let me do it:
There's a living
In his giving -
He'll appoint me to it.
Dreams of coff'ring,
Easter off'ring,
Tithe and rent and pew-rate,
So inflame me
(Do not blame me),

[...] Read more

poem by WS Gilbert
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Menatap lurus matamu (Indonesian)

lalu belajar mengerti dari awal,
membaca kembali ejaan yang tak pernah kau berikan,
karena sebagaimana pengertian dari awalnya
bermula dari keterpaksaan,
penderitaan yang dijalani,
akar tunjang yang membelit tumbuh
di pokok batangnya,
rumput yang tumbuh
di segala musim,
kerelaan yang tumbuh
dari bola matamu,
memperkaitkan sepi pada pengertian,
alam benda-benda yang ada di kerajaan hati,
entah berapa kali aku mengemis padamu,
jangan buatkan sarang laba-laba yang menjebakku,
jadi magsamu,
terpikat masuk ke bola matamu,
terjebak sukma ruhmu,
melewati aliran nadi,
memenuhi hasrat,
pelajaran apalagi ini?
bermula dari kekosongan mengisi setiap rongga jiwa,
penderitaan adalah awal persetubuhan,
persetubuhan yang akan menjadi puing-puing
kenangan dalam matamu,
hendakkah kau buang,
bagi matamu yang penyair,
barangkali akan tinggalkan sebagai kata,
yang kembali dieja dengan apa saja judul puisimu,
tetapi tetap saja persetubuhan kita tak kekal,
hanya kekal dalam matamu dan mataku,
suatu kali kita bangun kerajaan dalam semalam,
aku puaskan membangunkan pualam istana,
cuma dalam matamu,
setelah kekeringan yang punah,
dibakar, apalagi ini?
lalu belajar mengerti kembali…..

(2001)

poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
Added by Poetry Lover
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Yin-yang-yin

A teacher asked a student
To define life

The student could craft
Thoughts out of naught
He started to chant something like this

Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo

When yin sleeps
Yang wake-up
Yin yang yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo

Together they fit
To form a whole
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo

Opposite they are
But still seeking balance
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo
Contrary but still
Not in opposition
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Y o

Two aspects
Of a single truth
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo
Yo-yo
Yo

Rather than trying to replace each other
They transform into a single reality
Yin-yang-yin
Yo-yo

[...] Read more

poem by Gul Naz
Added by Poetry Lover
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Group Four

3d
A flask I drink of sober tea
While relay cameras monitor me
And the buzz surrounds, it does
Buzz surrounds, buzz surrounds
Liz fraser
Closed eyed sky wide open
Unlimited girl unlimited sigh
Elsewhere
Indefinitely far away
Magnifies and deepens
Ready to sing
My sixth sense peacefully place on my breath
And listening
3d
Keys swing from my hand
Liz fraser
My ears know that my eyes are closed
3d
Perish thoughts like contraband
I train myself in martial arts
As advertised
I reinforce my softened parts
As advertised
Liz fraser
Seen through me little glazed lane
A world in myself
Ready to sing
My sixth sense peacefully place on my breath
3d
Flickering I roam
Liz fraser
And listening
My ears know that my eyes are closed
Ready to sing
My sixth sense peacefully place on my breath
3d
Flickering I roam
Liz fraser
And listening
My ears know that my eyes are closed
3d
I see to bolts, put keys to locks
No boats are rocked, Im free to roam
Among dummy screens and magazines
Liz fraser
Closed eyed sky wide open
Unlimited girl unlimited sigh
3d
To think I lay next to you

[...] Read more

song performed by Massive Attack
Added by Lucian Velea
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Laura

E "Laura" aspetta un figlio per Natale
e tutto il resto adesso pu aspettare
perch Laura adesso deve
solamente riposare
e forse?!?.... smetter anche di fumare?!
E "laura" aspetta un figlio per Natale
ed sicura che ci
sar "neve...."
da quelle parti sai... non che
ci sia sempre il sole
per... non che neanche tutti
giorni "piove"!
E Laura aspetta un figlio per Natale
e tutto il resto adesso... pu aspettare
perch Laura adesso "deve"
solamente "riposare"
e forse.... smetter anche di fumare...
E laura aspetta un figlio per Natale
ed sicura che ci sar "neve"....
da quelle parti sai... non che
ci sia sempre il sole
per... non che neanche tutti
giorni "piove"!
E Laura aspetta un figlio "per errore"
per lei dice che si chiama "amore"
in ogni caso poi la gente...
sai che cosa vuole!?!
in fondo.... vuole "Natale con la neve"!
E Laura aspetta un figlio per Natale
e tutto il resto adesso pu aspettare
perch Laura adesso deve
solamente "riposare"
e forse.... smetter anche di fumare

song performed by Vasco Rossi
Added by Lucian Velea
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