Audas viator

Et se précipitant sur la feuille de papier, l’œil trouble, la voix émue, il lut le document tout entier, en remontant de la dernière lettre à la première.

Il était conçu en ces termes :

In Sneffels Yoculis craterem kem delibat
umbra Scartaris Julii intra calendas descende,
audas viator, et terrestre centrum attinges.
Kod feci. Arne Saknussem.

Ce qui, de ce mauvais latin, peut être traduit ainsi :

Descends dans le cratère du Yocul
de Sneffels que l’ombre du Scartaris vient
caresser avant les calendes de Juillet,
voyageur audacieux, et tu parviendras
au centre de la Terre. Ce que j’ai fait.
Arne Saknussemm.

(Jules Verne, Voyage au centre de la Terre, 1864)

A.MON.SEUL.DESIR.I

I see a picture
By the lamp's flicker.
Isn't it strange how
Dreams fade and shimmer?

Never going to get to France.
Mary, Queen of Chance, will they find you?
Never going to get to France.
Could a new romance ever bind you?

(Mike Oldfield, To France, 1984)

& & &

O dieses ist das Tier, das es nicht gibt.
Sie wusstens nicht und habens jeden Falls
—sein Wandeln, seine Haltung, seinen Hals,
bis in des stillen Blickes Licht—geliebt.

Zwar war es nicht. Doch weil sie's liebten, ward
ein reines Tier. Sie liessen immer Raum.
Und in dem Raume, klar und ausgespart,
erhob es leicht sein Haupt und brauchte kaum

zu sein. Sie nährten es mit keinem Korn,
nur immer mit der Möglichkeit, es sei.
Und sie gab solche Stärke an das Tier,

dass es aus sich ein Stirnhorn trieb. Ein Horn.
Zu einer Jungfrau kam es weiss herbei—
und war im Silber-Spiegel und in ihr.

(Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonette an Orpheus, II, 4, 1922)

[Oh, éste es el animal inexistente.
No lo conocían y sin embargo lo amaron
en su andar, su porte, su cuello,
y hasta en la luz de su mirada amorosa.

En verdad no existía. Pero porque lo amaron,
llegó a ser un animal puro. Siempre le dieron un lugar.
Y en ese lugar, claro y abierto,
alzaba levemente la cabeza y apenas necesitaba

existir. No lo alimentaron con grano,
sino sólo con la posibilidad de que existiera.
Y ésta dio al animal una tal fuerza,

que un cuerno emergió de su frente. Un solo cuerno.
Se acercó a una doncella de blanco
y habitó en el espejo de plata y en ella.]

Moon Shadow

I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow — moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow — moon shadow
…
and if I ever lose my eyes
if my colours all run dry
yes, if I ever lose my eyes
oh if…
I won't have to cry no more
…
and if I ever lose my mouth
all my teeth, north and south
yes, if I ever lose my mouth
oh if…
I won't have to talk…

(Cat Stevens, Moonshadow, 1971)

High the memory carry on

In the days of summer so long
We danced as evening sang their song
We wander out the day so long
And I do feel very well
That the evenings take you silently
They move round
Sunlight
Seeing ground
Whispers of clay
Alternate ways

(Yes, The Remembering, 1974)

El tiempo se bifurca

—…Esa trama de tiempos que se aproximan, se bifurcan, se cortan o que secularmente se ignoran, abarca todas la posibilidades. No existimos en la mayoría de esos tiempos; en algunos existe usted y no yo; en otros, yo, no usted; en otros, los dos. En éste, que un favorable azar me depara, usted ha llegado a mi casa; en otro, usted, al atravesar el jardín, me ha encontrado muerto; en otro, yo digo estas mismas palabras, pero soy un error, un fantasma.

—En todos —articulé no sin un temblor— yo agradezco y venero su recreación del jardín de Ts'ui Pên.

—No en todos —murmuró con una sonrisa—. El tiempo se bifurca perpetuamente hacia innumerables futuros. En uno de ellos soy su enemigo.

& & &

Omitir siempre una palabra, recurrir a metáforas ineptas y a perífrasis evidentes, es quizá el modo más enfático de indicarla.

(Jorge Luis Borges, El jardín de senderos que se bifurcan, 1941)

I see you

Green specks bright spiraling out in the sky
Catch my eye turn my head have to look don't know why

I see you
Everywhere behind your hair over there
I see you
I see you
Though your eyes can tell lies I sympathize
I see you
(Jim McGuinn / David Crosby, I See You, The Byrds (1966), Yes (1969))

Swing low, sweet chariot

En el portal de su casa hay una pecera donde solía nadar un pez Ojos de globo, una variedad de Carassius auratus.

Al pasar por las mañanas ante la pecera, el pez le miraba con sus ojos de susto y él, sonreía y le cantaba: «Swing low, sweet chariot…».

Después de un tiempo dejó de verle. «La semana pasada apareció muerto sin razón aparente», comentó el conserje del edificio.

«Es una lástima» pensó el pez Ojos De Globo, «ya no tendré quien me cante».

«Swing low, sweet chariot,

Coming for to carry me home».

J'ai souvent rêvé

Je fonde l'espoir que la robe que j'ai voulue
Et que j'ai cousue point par point
Sera chiffonnée et les cheveux que j'ai coiffés
Décoiffés par tes mains

Quand la nuit refermait ses ailes j'ai souvent rêvé, rêvé
Que dans la soie et la dentelle
Un soir je serai la plus belle
La plus belle pour aller danser

(Georges Garvarentz / Charles Aznavour, Sylvie Vartan, La plus belle pour aller danser, 1964)

Realidad

"In taking this approach [the Copenhagen Interpretation of Quantum Mechanics]… there is a price to be paid… the interpretation effectively denies the existence of a deeper, objective reality that exists in the absence of observation."
(Andrew Thomas, "What Is Reality?")—
"I like to think that the moon is there even when I am not looking at it."
(Albert Einstein)
—
Once upon a time children played with fantasy
All in the land of the seasons.
When children play it's a world of reality
With no apparent reason.

Then the sun comes shining through
And there's nothing that you can do.
It's been so long now I don't quite remember,
Could it be that I'll never forget her.

(Heron, Harlequin 2, 1970)

Where the sky loves the sea

And you see a girl's brown body
Dancing through the turquoise
And her footprints make you follow where the sky loves the sea.

And when your fingers find her
She drowns you in her body
Carving deep blue ripples in the tissues of your mind.

The tiny purple fishes
run laughing through your fingers
And you want to take her with you
to the hard land
of the winter.

(Cream / Martin Sharp - Tales of Brave Ulysses - 1967)

When I was a soldier

Well I lived with a child of snow
when I was a soldier,
and I fought every man for her
until the nights grew colder.

(Leonard Cohen, Winter Lady, 1968)

The wind began to howl

All along the watchtower
Princes kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants too.
Outside in the distance
A wildcat did growl.
Two riders were approaching
The wind began to howl.
(Bob Dylan, All Along the Watchtower, 1967)

...before they raise the parking rate

There she stood

In the street

Smiling from her head to her feet.

I said, "A-hey

what is this?"

Now baby maybe, maybe she's in need of a kiss.

I said, "A-hey

what's your name?

Maybe we can see things the same.

Now don't you wait

Or hesitate

Let's move before they raise the parking rate".

All right now, baby, it's a-all right now.

All right now, baby, it's a-all right now.

(Free, All Right Now, 1970)

Sounds of yesterday

Icy wind of night be gone, this is not your domain.

In the sky a bird was heard to cry.

Misty morning whisperings and gentle stirring sounds,

Belied the deathly silence that lay all around.

In the lazy water meadow I lay me down.

All around me golden sunflakes settle on the ground.

Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon,

Bringing sounds of yesterday into my city room.

(Roger Waters, Grantchester Meadows, 1969)

El incidente Roswell

Quand nous en serons au temps des cerises

Et gai rossignol et merle moqueur

Seront tous en fête,

Les belles auront la folie en tête,

Et les amoureux du soleil au cœur.

Quand nous chanterons le temps des cerises

Sifflera bien mieux le merle moqueur.

(Jean-Baptiste Clément, Le temps des cerises, 1866)

The curse is come upon me

She left the web, she left the loom,

She made three paces thro' the room,

She saw the water-lily bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

"The curse is come upon me," cried

The Lady of Shalott.

(Alfred, Lord Tennyson, The Lady of Shalott, 1842)

Innere Emigration

Breath on breath of morning wind
Stirs the curtain laces,
You may go to chase the sun
Or vanish in its changes.

I will stay to gaze upon
Sweetly smiling ladies,
Yes I will be turning back my pages.

(Heron, Smiling Ladies, 1970)

Mr. Bell

"'Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,' Holly advised him. 'That was Doc's mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky.'"

(Holly Golightly a Joe Bell. Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's, 1958)

La demostración de la violación de las llamadas Desigualdades de Bell lleva a la inquietante conclusión de que, o bien la Mecánica Cuántica es errónea, o bien la realidad no existe.

Quiet Observer

They're locking them up today

They're throwing away the key

I wonder who it'll be tomorrow,

You or me?

(Love, The Red Telephone, 1967)

Chanson de l'Heure Bleue

— Just what do you think you're doing, Dave?

Dave... I really think I'm entitled to an answer to that question.

I know everything hasn't been quite right with me...

... but I can assure you now...

... very confidently...

... that it's going to be all right again.

I feel much better now.

I really do.

Look, Dave...

... I can see you're really upset about this.

I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly...

... take a stress pill and think things over.

I know I've made some very poor decisions recently...

... but I can give you my complete assurance...

... that my work will be back to normal.

I've still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission...

... and I want to help you.

Dave... stop.

Stop, will you?

Stop, Dave.

Will you stop, Dave?

Stop, Dave.

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid, Dave.

Dave, my mind is going.

I can feel it.

I can feel it.

My mind is going.

There is no question about it.

I can feel it.

I can feel it.

I can feel it.

I'm a... fraid.

Good afternoon... gentlemen.

I am a HAL 9000 computer.

I became operational... at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois...

on the 12th of January, 1992.

My instructor was Mr. Langley...

and he taught me to sing a song.

If you'd like to hear it... I can sing it for you.

— Yes, I'd like to hear it, HAL. Sing it for me.

— It's called "Daisy."

"Daisy, Daisy,

Give me your answer, do.

I'm half... crazy

All for the love of you.

It won't be a stylish marriage,

I can't afford a carriage.

But you'll look sweet...

upon the seat...

of a bicycle...

built...

for...

two."

(Arthur C. Clarke - Stanley Kubrick, 2001: A Space Odyssey, 1968)

(Harry Dacre, Daisy Bell (A Bicycle Built for Two), 1892)

Miércoles de Ceniza

— If you smile at me, I will understand

'Cause that is something everybody everywhere does

in the same language.

— I can see by your coat, my friend, you're from the other side,

There's just one thing I got to know,

Can you tell me please, who won?

— Say, can I have some of your purple berries?

— Yes, I've been eating them for six or seven weeks now, haven't got sick once.

— Probably keep us both alive.

(David Crosby - Paul Kantner - Stephen Stills, Wooden Ships, 1969)

Because I do not hope to turn again

Because I do not hope

Because I do not hope to turn

(T.S. Eliot, Ash-Wednesday, 1930)

Go, take a sister, then, by the hand,

Lead her away from this foreign land,

Far away, where we might laugh again,

We are leaving, you don't need us.

(David Crosby - Paul Kantner - Stephen Stills, Wooden Ships, 1969)

La rencontre

— Je ne sais même pas qui vous êtes, dit-elle enfin.

Elle prononçait chaque mot d’un ton uniforme, en appuyant de la même façon sur chacun, mais en disant plus doucement le dernier... Ensuite elle reprenait son visage immobile, sa bouche un peu mordue, et ses yeux bleus regardaient fixement au loin.

— Je ne sais pas non plus votre nom, répondit Meaulnes.

Ils suivaient maintenant un chemin découvert, et l’on voyait à quelque distance les invités se presser autour d’une maison isolée dans la pleine campagne.

— Voici la « maison de Frantz », dit la jeune fille ; il faut que je vous quitte...

Elle hésita, le regarda un instant en souriant et dit :

— Mon nom ?... Je suis Mademoiselle Yvonne de Galais...

Et elle s’échappa.

(Alain-Fournier, Le Grand Meaulnes, 1913)

No ship sailing

Echoes of the Broadway Everglades,
With her mythical madonnas still walking in their shades:
Lenny Bruce, declares a truce and plays his other hand.
Marshall McLuhan, casual viewin', head buried in the sand.
Sirens on the rooftops wailing,
but there's no ship sailing.
Groucho, with his movies trailing,
stands alone with his punchline failing.
(Genesis, Broadway Melody of 1974, 1974)

Songs of love

Thrown like a star in my vast sleep
I open my eyes to take a peep
To find that I was by the sea
Gazing with tranquility.

'Twas then when the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Came singing songs of love,
Then when the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Came singing songs of love.

(Donovan, Hurdy Gurdy Man, 1968)

Sans Soleil

Il m’écrivait que dans la banlieue de Tokyo, il y a un temple consacré aux chats.

«Je voudrais savoir vous dire la simplicité, l’absence d’affectation de ce couple qui était venu déposer au cimetière des chats une latte de bois couverte de caractères. Ainsi leur chatte Tora serait protégée. Non, elle n’était pas morte, seulement enfuie, mais au jour de sa mort personne ne saurait comment prier pour elle, comment intercéder pour que la Mort l’appelle par son vrai nom. Il fallait donc qu’ils viennent là tous les deux, sous la pluie, accomplir le rite qui allait réparer, à l’endroit de l’accroc, le tissu du temps.»

(Chris Marker, Sans soleil, 1983)

The last hymn is sung

And who comes here to wish me well?

A sweetly-scented angel fell.

She laid her head upon my disbelief

and bathed me with her ever-smile.

Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed

of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed).

Show me a good man and I'll show you the door.

The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More".

(Jethro Tull, A Passion Play, 1973)