Bill Bailey’s Chaucerian Pubbe Gagge.
Ribloggo per drunkenboat!
Drunkenboat ringrazia.
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Drunken Boat
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King Lear, IV. vi.
LEAR: They flattered me like a dog and told me I had the white hairs in my beart ere the black ones were there. To say “ay” and “no” to everything that I said! “Ay” and “no” too was no good divinity. When the rain came to wet me once and the wind to make me chatter: when the thunder would not peace at my bidding; there I found ‘em, there I smelt ‘em out. Go to, they are no men o’ their words. They told me I was everything. ‘Tis a lie: I am not agueproof.
LEAR: Mi hanno adulato come cani e mi hanno detti che avevo peli bianchi nella barba prima ancora che mi spuntassero quelli neri. Rispondere “si” e “no” a tutto quel che dicevo! Dire “si” e “no” insieme non è teologicamente corretto. Quando è venuta la pioggia a bagnarmi e il vento a farmi battere i denti, quando il tuono si è rifiutato di tacere a mio comando, allora li ho scoperti, allora li ho smascherati. Ecco, non sono gente di parola. Mi hanno detto che io ero tutto. E’ una menzogna non sono immune dalla febbre terzana.
- W. Shakespeare
King Lear, IV. I.
“As flies to wonton boys are we to the gods
They kill us for their sport”
“Noi siamo per gli dei come mosche per dei monelli
Ci uccidono per divertimeno”
- W. Shakespeare
Q.I.
On the word “hello”, as opposed to “hullo”
Stephen Fry : It just meant an expression of surprise—”Hullo, what have we got here?” “Hullo, what’s this?” And we still use it in that sense.
Bill Bailey: Do we?
Stephen Fry: … Don’t we, Bill?
Bill Bailey: Yes, when we live our lives like 1950s detective films, yes. I often go to my fridge, “Hullo, we’re out of milk. I say, mother, where’s the milk?”
Stephen Fry: You beast, you beast, you utter, utter, beast.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Into My Arms
“Man, I’m good”
Today, I discovered that when I was little, every time I was mad at my parents I would go into the fridge and shake up their beers before dinner. It took them years to figure out why their beers would randomly explode on them. I was an evil genius. MLIA
(via fortruthisalwaysstrange)
how come this old man is so attractive?
i have no idea man.
Art Poétique, Paul Verlaine
De la musique avant toute chose,
Et pour cela préfère l’Impair
Plus vague et plus soluble dans l’air,
Sans rien en lui qui pèse ou qui pose.
Il faut aussi que tu n’ailles point
Choisir tes mots sans quelque méprise :
Rien de plus cher que la chanson grise
Où l’Indécis au Précis se joint.
C’est des beaux yeux derrière des voiles,
C’est le grand jour tremblant de midi,
C’est, par un ciel d’automne attiédi,
Le bleu fouillis des claires étoiles!
Car nous voulons la Nuance encor,
Pas la Couleur, rien que la nuance!
Oh ! la nuance seule fiance
Le rêve au rêve et la flûte au cor!
Fuis du plus loin la Pointe assassine,
L’Esprit cruel et le Rire impur,
Qui font pleurer les yeux de l’Azur,
Et tout cet ail de basse cuisine!
Prends l’éloquence et tords-lui son cou!
Tu feras bien, en train d’énergie,
De rendre un peu la Rime assagie.
Si l’on n’y veille, elle ira jusqu’où?
O qui dira les torts de la Rime?
Quel enfant sourd ou quel nègre fou
Nous a forgé ce bijou d’un sou
Qui sonne creux et faux sous la lime?
De la musique encore et toujours!
Que ton vers soit la chose envolée
Qu’on sent qui fuit d’une âme en allée
Vers d’autres cieux à d’autres amours.
Que ton vers soit la bonne aventure
Eparse au vent crispé du matin
Qui va fleurant la menthe et le thym …
Et tout le reste est littérature.
