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Archive for April 15th, 2012|Daily archive page

The Nature

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 11:41 pm

 

It is my joy to share with You all the Beauty I found walking down the web 

Wisdom Quotes – Nature – YouTube

The Nature

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 11:41 pm

 

It is my joy to share with You all the Beauty I found walking down the web 

Wisdom Quotes – Nature – YouTube

Khalil Gibran The Prophet(Music book) deutsch

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 11:33 pm

Khalil Gibran – The Prophet (Music Book) – YouTube

 

Khalil Gibran’s timeless poetry interpreted musically and produced by Andrew Lucas. Linguistically implemented by famous artists and voice actors. Release: 2005 01 PROLOG – Frank Glaubrecht .. 2’28 min. 02 OF LOVE – Frank Glaubrecht .. 5’11 min. 03 OF THE CHILDREN – Maximilian Schell .. 5’41 min. 04th OF CRIME AND PUNISHMENT – Frank Glaubrecht .. 4’21 min. 05th INTERLUDE .. 1’58 min. 06th FROM PAIN – Sebastian Koch .. 3’49 min. 07th OF FRIENDSHIP – Frank Glaubrecht .. 5’25 min. 08th THE DEAL – Joy Denalane .. 5’43 min. 09th OF THE FREEDOM – Rolf Schult .. 5’09 min. 10th FROM THE MARRIAGE – Maria Furtwängler .. 4’12 min. 11th THE BEAUTY – Sebastian Koch .. 3’15 min. 12th BY THE TIME – Sebastian Koch .. 8’55 min. 13th FROM DEATH – Maximilian Schell .. 3’26 min. 14th THE FAREWELL – Rolf Schult .. 11’02 min. (from about 1:05:00 to 1:07:00 silence, then “hidden part”)

Das ist fur meine freunde.Gutte nacht!

Khalil Gibran The Prophet(Music book) deutsch

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 11:33 pm

Khalil Gibran – The Prophet (Music Book) – YouTube

 

Khalil Gibran’s timeless poetry interpreted musically and produced by Andrew Lucas. Linguistically implemented by famous artists and voice actors. Release: 2005 01 PROLOG – Frank Glaubrecht .. 2’28 min. 02 OF LOVE – Frank Glaubrecht .. 5’11 min. 03 OF THE CHILDREN – Maximilian Schell .. 5’41 min. 04th OF CRIME AND PUNISHMENT – Frank Glaubrecht .. 4’21 min. 05th INTERLUDE .. 1’58 min. 06th FROM PAIN – Sebastian Koch .. 3’49 min. 07th OF FRIENDSHIP – Frank Glaubrecht .. 5’25 min. 08th THE DEAL – Joy Denalane .. 5’43 min. 09th OF THE FREEDOM – Rolf Schult .. 5’09 min. 10th FROM THE MARRIAGE – Maria Furtwängler .. 4’12 min. 11th THE BEAUTY – Sebastian Koch .. 3’15 min. 12th BY THE TIME – Sebastian Koch .. 8’55 min. 13th FROM DEATH – Maximilian Schell .. 3’26 min. 14th THE FAREWELL – Rolf Schult .. 11’02 min. (from about 1:05:00 to 1:07:00 silence, then “hidden part”)

Das ist fur meine freunde.Gutte nacht!

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 8:50 pm

Very interesting blog..be kind and gentle with Chris out there my friends.

Thee

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 8:26 pm

Read the rest of this entry »

The Swan Lake

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 7:55 pm

Swan Lake for piano, Tchaikovsky + sheet music – YouTube

The Swan Lake

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 7:55 pm

Swan Lake for piano, Tchaikovsky + sheet music – YouTube

Ode to A Nightingale

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 7:44 pm

John Keats – Ode To A Nightingale – Bright Star – YouTube

Ode To A Nightingale by John Keats (1795-1821) My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim: Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves; And mid-May’s eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?

John Keats – Ode To A Nightingale – Bright Star – YouTube

Ode to A Nightingale

In Love on April 15, 2012 at 7:44 pm

John Keats – Ode To A Nightingale – Bright Star – YouTube

Ode To A Nightingale by John Keats (1795-1821) My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ‘Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim: Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild; White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine; Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves; And mid-May’s eldest child, The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine, The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. Darkling I listen; and, for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod. Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?

John Keats – Ode To A Nightingale – Bright Star – YouTube

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