şükela:  tümü | bugün
  • theatre of tragedynin aegis albumunde guzel bir $arki. ayrica bir zamanlarki nickim..
  • aslinda bir alman efsanesi, zamaninda okumu$tuk, lorelei ayni odysseus'u cagiran siren'ler gibi gemicileri yalniz ba$ina oturup agladigi kayalara dogru ceker, tekneler de kayalara carpip batarlar. yine olan gariban denizcilere olur.
  • ...bazıları sarışın sever'de marilyn monroe'nun canlardığı karakter.
  • vasatin ustunde bir cocteau twins parcasi
  • theatre of tragedy - aegis

    færie dearest, was it loe soothfast or a façade;
    a serenade siren'd to lure - zounds! not to court me?
    a mænad, yet the sweetest colleen -
    certes didst thou me unveil meekly life pristine.

    lorelei,
    a poet of tragedies, scribe i lauds to death,
    yet who the hell was i to dare?
    lorelei,
    canst thou not see thou to me needful art?
    canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is?

    dædally didst thou perform the tragic pasquinade,
    for all years a damndest and driegh'd accolade -
    caus'd for all eyes mazéd to behold a mêlée;
    in the midst did i swainly cast thee my bouquet:
    the one and sole faggot that feedeth the fire,
    bellow´d bidingly by my heart's quailing quire.

    lorelei,
    a poet of tragedies, scribe i lauds to death,
    yet who the hell was i to dare?
    lorelei,
    canst thou not see thou to me needful art?
    canst thou not see the loss of loe painful is?

    perchance author i thee this ikon'd apologue for aught,
    doth the wecht burthen thee?, then bethink thine afterthought:
    'tween æther and 'nether art thou the peerless phœnix -
    prithee, darlingmost! - court me rather than the peevish prolix
  • cocteau twins in olanın lyricleri de aşağıdaki gibidir:

    get off the car
    kick his chain, kick his pride
    get him soaked hit run
    lift up your toes
    in my mouth
    and we can make love
    and we can go
    we're covered by the sacred fire
    when you come to me, you come to broke

    without a doubt

    we're covered by the sacred fire
    when you come to me, you come to me broke
    guilty girl, guilty boy
    get to make out
    him chocked with mousse
    lift up your toes
    in my mouth
    and we can make love
    and we can go
  • alman dağ köylerinde çobanların uzak mesafelerden birbirine seslenme biçimi.gırtlaktan çıkan kendine özgü bir tonu vardır.kış aylarında heyelan ve çığ düşmesine neden olduğu için yasaklandığını duymuştum.
  • bir alman efsanesinin sarı uzun saçlı kadın kahramanı.
    lorelei, ren nehrine bakan yüksek kayalıklarda oturur ve altın rengi saçlarını tararken şarkılar söyler. lorelei'ın büyüsüne kendini kaptıran gemiciler, gözlerini ve kulaklarını ondan alamaz ve biraz daha yaklaşırlar kayalara.. gemileri kayalıklara çarpar ve lorelei'in büyüsü ölüme götürür denizcileri...

    aşağıdaki şiir, lorelei efsanesini anlatır:

    ich weiß nicht was soll es bedeuten
    daß ich so traurig bin;
    ein märchen aus alten zeiten,
    das kommt mir nicht aus dem sinn.

    die luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
    und ruhig fließt der rhein;
    der gipfel des berges funkelt
    im abendsonnenschein.

    die schönste jungfrau sitzet
    dort oben wunderbar;
    ihr goldnes geschmeide blitzet,
    sie kämmt ihr goldenes haar.

    sie kämmt es mit goldenem kamme
    und singt ein lied dabei;
    das hat eine wundersame,
    gewaltige melodei.

    den schiffer im kleinen schiffe
    er greift es mit wildem weh;
    er schaut nicht die felsenriffe,
    es schaut nur hinauf in die höh'.

    ich glaube, die wellen verschlingen
    am ende schiffer und kahn;
    und das hat mit ihrem singen
    die lorelei getan.
  • şarkılarıyla*** gemicileri ayartıp* ölüme sürükleyen* deniz kızlarıdır* bunlar.
  • sylvia plath'ın bir şiiri..

    it is no night to drown in:
    a full moon, river lapsing
    black beneath bland mirror-sheen,

    the blue water-mists dropping
    scrim after scrim like fishnets
    though fishermen are sleeping,

    the massive castle turrets
    doubling themselves in a glass
    all stillness. yet these shapes float

    up toward me, troubling the face
    of quiet. from the nadir
    they rise, their limbs ponderous

    with richness, hair heavier
    than sculptured marble. they sing
    of a world more full and clear

    than can be. sisters, your song
    bears a burden too weighty
    for the whorled ear's listening

    here, in a well-steered country,
    under a balanced ruler.
    deranging by harmony

    beyond the mundane order,
    your voices lay siege. you lodge
    on the pitched reefs of nightmare,

    promising sure harborage;
    by day, descant from borders
    of hebetude, from the ledge

    also of high windows. worse
    even than your maddening
    song, your silence. at the source

    of your ice-hearted calling-
    drunkenness of the great depths.
    o river, i see drifting

    deep in your flux of silver
    those great goddesses of peace.
    stone, stone, ferry me down there.