Tag Archives: Memory of love

Leonard Cohen – Take This Waltz (Live in London)

Now in Vienna there’s ten pretty women
There’s a shoulder where Death comes to cry
There’s a lobby with nine hundred windows
There’s a tree where the doves go to die
There’s a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost

Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on it’s jaws

Oh I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallway where love’s never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand

Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With it’s very own breath of brandy and Death
Dragging it’s tail in the sea

There’s a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There’s a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They’ve been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?

Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz it’s been dying for years

There’s an attic where children are playing
Where I’ve got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I’ll see what you’ve chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow

Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
With its “I’ll never forget you, you know!”

This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz …
With its very own breath of brandy and death
Dragging its tail in the sea

And I’ll dance with you in Vienna
I’ll be wearing a river’s disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I’ll bury my soul in a scrapbook
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I’ll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you’ll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist

Oh my love, Oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
It’s yours now. It’s all that there is

{Instrumental}

(Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay)

~ Leonard Cohen

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the infinity of you

An ode to all mothers and reason enough to make of every day a thanksgiving day.

The Lonely Author

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While sipping wine and listening to soft Latin jazz and samba, I thought of the great love women/mothers provide unselfishly with no boundaries. Sadly, it often goes unappreciated. I truly believe it is difficult for any man to truly reciprocate the endless love & warmth their lady truly deserves.

This poem evolved from those thoughts.

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the infinity of you

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The little boy in me
stands before the immense
universe of your poetry
Where metaphors are constellations
and your deep verses
are remote galaxies
Your words travel beyond
time and space
forever eclipsing me
like a lonely particle of love
For you are my sun
I, your loyal moon
a small bewildered child
forever admiring
the infinity of you

.

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This Thursday I will be volunteering at a local Soup kitchen helping to feed the homeless for Thanksgiving. Thus, I needed to make my second post of the…

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The twilight thickens, and…Leaves but a hallow’d memory of love!”

Portrait recadré de Lovecraft

Portrait recadré de Lovecraft (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A lovely poem by Howard Phillips Lovecraft (born August 20, 1890, Providence, Rhode Island, U.S.—died March 15, 1937, Providence), American author of fantastic and macabre short novels and stories, one of the 20th-century masters of the Gothic tale of terror.

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Purplerays

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“The cloudless day is richer at its close;
A golden glory settles on the lea;
Soft, stealing shadows hint of cool repose
To mellowing landscape, and to calming sea.

And in that nobler, gentler, lovelier light,
The soul to sweeter, loftier bliss inclines;
Freed form the noonday glare, the favour’d sight
Increasing grace in earth and sky divines.
But ere the purest radiance crowns the green,
Or fairest lustre fills th’ expectant grove,
The twilight thickens, and the fleeting scene
Leaves but a hallow’d memory of love!”

― H.P. Lovecraft

Text & image source: Harmony https://web.facebook.com/Harmony-578149188866564/

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