ok.. so shall i write . more then i could . i just did . but the big technological monster ate my words once again .. i've seen that before.. words
from la creme de la creme.
Le Crépuscule du soir
Voici le soir charmant, ami du criminel;
II vient comme un complice, à pas de loup; le ciel
Se ferme lentement comme une grande alcôve,
Et l'homme impatient se change en bête fauve.
Ô soir, aimable soir, désiré par celui
Dont les bras, sans mentir, peuvent dire: Aujourd'hui
Nous avons travaillé! — C'est le soir qui soulage
Les esprits que dévore une douleur sauvage,
Le savant obstiné dont le front s'alourdit,
Et l'ouvrier courbé qui regagne son lit.
Cependant des démons malsains dans l'atmosphère
S'éveillent lourdement, comme des gens d'affaire,
Et cognent en volant les volets et l'auvent.
À travers les lueurs que tourmente le vent
La Prostitution s'allume dans les rues;
Comme une fourmilière elle ouvre ses issues;
Partout elle se fraye un occulte chemin,
Ainsi que l'ennemi qui tente un coup de main;
Elle remue au sein de la cité de fange
Comme un ver qui dérobe à l'Homme ce qu'il mange.
On entend çà et là les cuisines siffler,
Les théâtres glapir, les orchestres ronfler;
Les tables d'hôte, dont le jeu fait les délices,
S'emplissent de catins et d'escrocs, leurs complices,
Et les voleurs, qui n'ont ni trêve ni merci,
Vont bientôt commencer leur travail, eux aussi,
Et forcer doucement les portes et les caisses
Pour vivre quelques jours et vêtir leurs maîtresses.
Recueille-toi, mon âme, en ce grave moment,
Et ferme ton oreille à ce rugissement.
C'est l'heure où les douleurs des malades s'aigrissent!
La sombre Nuit les prend à la gorge; ils finissent
Leur destinée et vont vers le gouffre commun;
L'hôpital se remplit de leurs soupirs. — Plus d'un
Ne viendra plus chercher la soupe parfumée,
Au coin du feu, le soir, auprès d'une âme aimée.
Encore la plupart n'ont-ils jamais connu
La douceur du foyer et n'ont jamais vécu!
— Charles Baudelaire
Twilight
Behold the sweet evening, friend of the criminal;
It comes like an accomplice, stealthily; the sky
Closes slowly like an immense alcove,
And impatient man turns into a beast of prey.
O evening, kind evening, desired by him
Whose arms can say, without lying: "Today
We labored!" — It is the evening that comforts
Those minds that are consumed by a savage sorrow,
The obstinate scholar whose head bends with fatigue
And the bowed laborer who returns to his bed.
Meanwhile in the atmosphere malefic demons
Awaken sluggishly, like businessmen,
And take flight, bumping against porch roofs and shutters.
Among the gas flames worried by the wind
Prostitution catches alight in the streets;
Like an ant-hill she lets her workers out;
Everywhere she blazes a secret path,
Like an enemy who plans a surprise attack;
She moves in the heart of the city of mire
Like a worm that steals from Man what he eats.
Here and there one hears food sizzle in the kitchens,
The theaters yell, the orchestras moan;
The gambling dens, where games of chance delight,
Fill up with whores and cardsharps, their accomplices;
The burglars, who know neither respite nor mercy,
Are soon going to begin their work, they also,
And quietly force open cash-boxes and doors
To enjoy life awhile and dress their mistresses.
Meditate, O my soul, in this solemn moment,
And close your ears to this uproar;
It is now that the pains of the sick grow sharper!
Somber Night grabs them by the throat; they reach the end
Of their destinies and go to the common pit;
The hospitals are filled with their sighs. — More than one
Will come no more to get his fragrant soup
By the fireside, in the evening, with a loved one.
However, most of them have never known
The sweetness of a home, have never lived!
— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)
so here i am .. should be writing and long goes the nights i have been riding for a while.
i could have rode back to mi casa but there is no points . for now. i can hide my whole some at Jack's son. and feed me lychee tea all i need for now . i had a crazy day but i like it that way
running is starting to become an international sportz if only i can do it straight to the kore. .
so here i am in a new city. but i have kept the whole of me , seriously. i need to see darker but in the daylight. a good friend of mine told me i needed to find melancholy into someone's eyes. and i found myself getting allergic to all of those who don't know yet what la dramatique est..
et voici vers ou je veut allez ...
seriously o so soon ... more words and details to come sur mon attentat a l'art del amore.
Commedia dell'arte
Commedia dell'arte (Italian: "play of professional artists" also interpreted as "comedy of humors"), also known as Extemporal Comedy, was a popular form of improvisational theater which began in Italy in the 15th century (1400s) and maintained its popularity through to the 18th century (1700s), although it is still performed today. All of their performances were outside with few props, unscripted and were free to watch, funded by donations. In a troupe there were 10 people: 7 men and 3 women. Outside Italy, it was also known as "Italian Comedy".
The performances were improvised around a repertory of stock conventional situations: adultery, jealousy, old age, love, some of which can be traced in the Roman comedies of Plautus and Terence, which are themselves translations of lost Greek comedies of the fourth century BCE. These characters included the ancestors of the modern clown. The dialogue and action could easily be made topical and adjusted to satirize local scandals, current events, or regional tastes, mixed with ancient jokes and punchlines. Characters were identified by costume, masks, and even props, such as the slapstick. Lazzi and Conchetti are also used.
The classic, traditional plot is that the innamorati are in love and wish to be married, but one vecchio (elder) or several elders, vecchi, are preventing this from happening, and so they must ask one or more zanni for help. Typically it ends happily with the marriage of the innamorati and forgiveness all around for any wrongdoings. There are countless variations on this story, as well as many that diverge completely from the structure, such as a well-known story about Arlecchino becoming mysteriously pregnant, or the Punch and Judy scenario.
ok.... so you see. la comedia del art e the game i dream 2 plAy ..
et o au revoir.... marijo St-amour
