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MUSIC

WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: Fragile, by Sting

FRAGILE If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one, drying in the colour of the evening sun, tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away, but something in our minds will always stay. Perhaps this final act was meant, to clinch a lifetime’s argument, that nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could. For all those born beneath an ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Luciano Ligabue: I feel you

I FEEL YOU I feel you, in the air that has changed, that anticipates the summer, and I cooled down a little. I feel you pass me in the back. Life does not rhyme, for what I do know, I feel you in the middle of a verse, a piece that was floppy, and now it no longer is. I ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – It has never an error, by Raf

IT HAS NEVER AN ERROR I look at you for the last time, as I go on. I hear you breathe, do not take the snapshot. I do not bring no trace in me, nothing that I will have to remove. If you’ve played you are the same, though now it hurts. If you loved was not love, it is ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOME POETRY – Angelo Branduardi: Welcome, my woman

WELCOME, MY WOMAN Welcome to my woman, welcome to my home, if you are tired now rests I’ll give you a drink. Welcome, my woman, welcome to my home, I will give you bread and roses and with me you’ll laugh. Welcome to my woman, welcome to my home, if you’re tired now rests welcome my woman. (Angelo Branduardi) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h7qdDCi0kw8

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Gino Paoli: The sky in a room

When you’re here with me, this room has no walls but trees, infinite trees. When you’re here with me, this purple ceiling, no, no longer exists. I see the sky above us, that we stay here, abandoned, as if, if there was nothing left, nothing left in the world. Harmonious sounds, like an organ that vibrates for you and for ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Georges Brassens: Les amoureux des bancs publics

Les gens qui voient de travers, pensent que les bancs verts qu’on voit sur les trottoirs, sont faits pour les impotents ou les ventripotents, mais c’est une absurdité. Car à la vérité, ils sont là c’est notoire, pour accueillir quelque temps les amours débutants. Les amoureux qui s’bécott’nt sur les bancs publics, en s’fouttant pas mal du regard oblique des ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Jacques Brel: Ne me quitte pas

Ne me quitte pas. Il faut oublier, tout peut s’oublier qui s’enfuit déjà. Oublier le temps des malentendus, et le temps perdu. A savoir comment, oublier ces heures qui tuaient parfois. A coups de pourquoi, le cœur du bonheur. Ne me quitte pas. Moi je t’offrirai des perles de pluie, venues de pays ou il ne pleut pas. Je creuserai ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY – Francis Cabrel: I have loved you, I love you and I will love you

My naked child on the pebbles, the wind in your hair defeats, like a spring on my way. A diamond of a cabinet fell, only the light could unpack our secret hideouts. O took my fingers on your wrist. I have loved you, I love you and I will love you. Whatever you do, love is everywhere you look. In ...

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WHEN THE MUSIC BECOMES POETRY: My Woman, by Angelo Branduardi

MY WOMAN Your long dress that grazes the grass, and that your sweetness that is dressed up, I have recognized, my woman. From dream up was short, if I followed you do not remember, I dreamed of you without seeing you, my lady. Your hands antique open slightly, and incline your fruit, your land is rich; I have not waited ...

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WHEN MUSIC BECOME POETRY: Skyfall, by Adele

This is the end. Hold your breath and count to ten. Feel the earth move and then hear my heart burst again. For this is the end I’ve drowned and dreamt this moment, so overdue I owe them swept away, I’m stolen. Let the skyfall, When it crumbles we will stand tall, face it all together, let the skyfall, and ...

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