Wednesday, January 19, 2011

KBYD January 19, 2011

Playlist:

Everybody Got Their Something - Nikka Costa
Before You Accuse Me - Bo Diddley
Old Scotland Road - The Suns
Saturday Night Succubi - The Black Knights
Tonight (Live at the Kazbahn) - Louis Barabbas and the Bedlam Six
You Excite Me - 28 Costumes
Homeless with a smile - Death To The Strange
Free The Pterodactyl 3 - Hot Club de Paris
Hendre Hall - Jaguar Jones
Smile - O. Children
Balthamos - Suzuki/Method
12 dollar specs - Oceanics
Far Q - Lower Than Atlantis
Margin Walker - Fugazi
Theresa's Sound-World - Sonic Youth
Sour Times - Portishead

Show archive [mixcloud.com]


Poems:

Negative Love
John Donne

I never stoop'd so low, as they
Which on an eye, cheeke, lip, can prey,
Seldom to them, which soare no higher
Than vertue or the minde to'admire,
For sense, and understanding may
Know, what gives fuell to their fire:
My love, though silly, is more brave,
For may I misse, when ere I crave,
If I know yet, what I would have.

If that be simply perfectest
Which can by no way be exprest
But Negatives, my love is so.
To All, which all love, I say no.
If any who deciphers best,
What we know not, our selves, can know,
Let him teach mee that nothing; This
As yet my ease, and comfort is,
Though I speed not, I cannot misse.


Rainer Maria Rilke
Gazella Dorcas

Verzauberte: wie kann der Einklang zweier
erwählter Worte je den Reim erreichen,
der in dir kommt und geht, wie auf ein Zeichen.
Aus deiner Stirne steigen Laub und Leier,

und alles Deine geht schon im Vergleich
durch Liebeslieder, deren Worte, weich
wie Rosenblätter, dem, der nicht mehr liest,
sich auf die Augen legen, die er schließt:

um dich zu sehen: hingetragen, als
wäre mit Sprüngen jeder Lauf geladen
und schösse nur nicht ab, solang der Hals

das Haupt im Horchen hält: wie wenn beim Baden
im Wald die Badende sich unterbricht:
den Waldsee im gewendeten Gesicht.


Rainer Maria Rilke
The Gazelle

Enchanted thing: how can two chosen words
ever attain the harmony of pure rhyme
that pulses through you as your body stirs?
Out of your forehead branch and lyre climb

and all your features pass in simile through
the songs of love whose words as light as rose-
petals rest on the face of someone who
has put his book away and shut his eyes:

to see you: tensed as if each leg were a gun
loaded with leaps but not fired while your neck
holds your head still listening: as when

while swimming in some isolated place
a girl hears leaves rustle and turns to look:
the forest pool reflected in her face.

Translation: Stephen Mitchell

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