Charles Lloyd New Quartet, last night @ SF Jazz Fest
Transcendently beautiful.
photo by www.charlesllyod.com
“20th Century Man” by The Kinks
This is the age of machinery,
A mechanical nightmare,
The wonderful world of technology,
Napalm, hydrogen bombs, biological warfare,
This is the twentieth century,
But too much aggravation
It's the age of insanity,
What has become of the green pleasant fields of Jerusalem.
Ain't got no ambition, I'm just disillusioned
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't wanna be here.
My mama said she can't understand me
She can't see my motivation
Just give me some security,
I'm a paranoid schizoid product of the twentieth century.
You keep all your smart modern writers
Give me William Shakespeare
You keep all your smart modern painters
I'll take Rembrandt, Titian, Da Vinci and Gainsborough,
Girl we gotta get out of here
We gotta find a solution
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't want to die here.
I was born in a welfare state
Ruled by bureaucracy
Controlled by civil servants
And people dressed in grey
Got no privacy, got no liberty
Cos the twentieth century people
Took it all away from me.
Don't wanna get myself shot down
By some trigger happy policeman,
Gotta keep a hold on my sanity
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't wanna die here.
My mama says she can't understand me
She can't see my motivation
Ain't got no security,
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't wanna be here.
This is the twentieth century
But too much aggravation
This is the edge of insanity
I'm a twentieth century man but I don't wanna be here.
Click on pic for video
Fazendeiro
ele se levanta antes de seus vizinhos
muito antes que o sol
acorde as cigarras
e comece a devolver algum calor
às campinas
em cujo orvalho esbranquiçado
uma fêmea de cachorro-do-mato e seu filhote
acabam de deixar o rastro escuro
e silencioso
de sua vigília pelos homens
(as mandíbulas daquele filhote desajeitado e frágil
são logo cedo uma síntese delicada do mundo)
o fazendeiro calça suas botas de borracha
se agasalha para enfrentar
o frio que entra pelas frestas madrugadas
de abril
e com o arado firme
e inoxidável
da própria solidão
espera que o dia o sol o caminho para a terra
a própria terra
encantada pelos desvios que encontra
do que a mão do homem quer dela
o elevem ao chão de sua fazenda de sonho
e nesse solo
tão vasto quanto particular
ele possa então consagrar sua colheita
(não de alimento que lhe atravesse o corpo
mas um outro
suspeito de igual importância
seiva da satisfação
de sua alma)
.
(Para o meu amigo, vizinho e fazendeiro Leonardo de Barros)
de Edu Campos, amigo.
my Films
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