My only love

Brian Ferry: Roxy Music Do I ever wonder?More than words can sayHeaven knows it’s hard enough to prayLet me tell you something There’s a change in meEven now you’re gone you’ll always beMy only loveDoes it seem so funny For a fool to cry?Do you know the meaning of goodbye?There’s a river flowingBy a willow… Read More My only love

एक अजीब-सी मुश्किल

कुँवर नारायण एक अजीब-सी मुश्किल में हूँ इन दिनों / मेरी भरपूर नफ़रत कर सकने की ताक़त / दिनोंदिन क्षीण पड़ती जा रही An uncanny paradox grips me these days / My capacity for fulsome hatred seems to be weakening every day अँग्रेज़ी से नफ़रत करना चाहता / जिन्होंने दो सदी हम पर राज किया… Read More एक अजीब-सी मुश्किल

Mika: Any other world

Mika sings Any other world In any other world you could tell the differenceAnd let it all unfurl into broken remnants Smile like you mean it and let yourself let go ‘Cause it’s all in the hands of a bitter, bitter manSay goodbye to the world you thought you lived inTake a bow, play the… Read More Mika: Any other world

The Song of Hiawatha

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow On the shores of Gitche Gumee,Of the shining Big-Sea-Water,Stood Nokomis, the old woman,Pointing with her finger westward,O’er the water pointing westward,To the purple clouds of sunset.   Fiercely the red sun descendingBurned his way along the heavens,Set the sky on fire behind him,As war-parties, when retreating,Burn the prairies on their war-trail;And the moon, the Night-sun, eastward,Suddenly starting from his ambush,Followed fast those bloody footprints,Followed in that fiery war-trail,With its glare upon his features.   And Nokomis, the old woman,Pointing with her finger westward,Spake these words to Hiawatha:“Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feather,Megissogwon, the Magician,Manito of Wealth and Wampum,Guarded by his fiery serpents,Guarded by the black pitch-water. You can see his fiery serpents,The Kenabeek, the great serpents,Coiling, playing in the water;You can see the black pitch-waterStretching far away beyond them,To the purple clouds of sunset!  “He it was who slew my father, By his wicked wiles and cunning,When he from the moon descended,When he came on earth to seek me.He, the mightiest of Magicians,Sends the fever from the marshes,Sends the pestilential vapors,Sends the poisonous exhalations,Sends the white fog from the fen-lands,Sends disease and death among us!   “Take your bow, O Hiawatha,Take your arrows, jasper-headed,Take your war-club, Puggawaugun,And your mittens, Minjekahwun,And your birch-canoe for sailing,And the oil of Mishe-Nahma,So to smear its sides, that swiftly You may pass the black pitch-water;Slay this merciless magician,Save the people from the feverThat he breathes across the fen-lands,And avenge my father’s murder!”   Straightway then my HiawathaArmed himself with all his war-gear,Launched his birch-canoe for sailing;With his palm its sides he patted,Said with glee, “Cheemaun, my darling,O my Birch-canoe! leap forward,Where you see the fiery serpents,Where you see the black pitch-water!”… The Gael – The Last Of The Mohicans Theme