Darlin’
Chains of love wont set me free
Chains of love wont let me be
Try to get up in he mornin’
But i just cant make it
Youve got a spell on me
And i just cant break it
Got to love on my backside
And i just cant shake it
If you dont help me baby
I know i cant make it
Coz im suffering from the heartache
Hey Hey
Chains of love wont set me free
Chains of love wont let me be
When had your sweet love baby,
i treated you so bad
But you were so sweet an so kind
Just give back these chains of mine
Your sweet love baby!
Chains of love wont set me free
Chains of love wont let me be
Cant get to sleep at night
Thinking about you
There is a voice in my soul babe
Says i cant go on without you
Since ive lost your sweet love baby
Everythings gone wrong
But your sweet memory
With all the love on!
Coz i got Hartache
Hey Hey
Chains of love wont set me free
Chains of love wont let me be
Baby, Got to, Got to, Got to break free baby
These chains of love baby!
(música do disco Ultraglide in Black, de 2001, do grupo The Dirtbombs, de Detroit. É um álbum de covers de canções soul dos anos 60 e 70. Para escutá-lo na íntegra, clique aqui. A capa é uma homenagem ao disco I Was Made to Love Her, de Stevie Wonder, de 1967)
Your six blade knife can do anything for you
Anything you want it to
One blade for breaking my heart
One blade for tearing me apart
Your six blade knife-do anything for you
You can take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
When you come up from behind and lay it down cold on my skin
Took a stone from my soul when I was lame
Just so you could make me tame
You take away my mind like you take away the top of a tin
I’d like to be free of it now – I don’t want it no more
I’d like to be free of it now – you know I don’t want it no more
Everybody got a knife it can be just what they want it to be
A needle, a wife or something that you just can’t see
You know it keeps you strong
Yes and it’ll do me wrong
Your six blade knife – do anything for you
(música do primeiro disco do Dire Straits, de 1978 – aqui para escutá-lo na íntegra). O disco traz o grande sucesso da banda, Sultans of Swing)
“Essas duas grandes e similares forças Yin e Yang do esforço físico – a leve, fluída Terpsícore e o agressivo Hércules; o pequeno e o grande; o artista e o atleta; o aéreo e o terreno.”
Fotos da galeria acima fazem parte da exposição do fotógrafo John Goodman em Nova York, que reúne imagens em preto e branco de pugilistas feitas no ginásio Times Square, em 1996, e no Balé de Boston, em 2004.
The woman in blue, she’s asking for revenge,
man in white — that’s you — says he has no friends.
The river is swollen up with rusty cans
and the trees are burning in your promised land.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
and there are no grapes upon the vine,
and there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
and there are no diamonds in the mine.
Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
you say you’re kind of restless now and it’s on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
he was eating up a lady where the lions and Christians fight.
And there are no letters in the mailbox
and there are no grapes upon the vine,
and there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
and there are no diamonds in the mine.
(You tell them now)
Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch,
and the only man of energy, yes the revolution’s pride,
he trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine,
and there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
and there are no diamonds in your mine,
and there are no letters in the mailbox,
and there are no grapes upon the vine,
and there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
and there are no diamonds in your mine.
Num bosque, em pleno outono, a estrada bifurcou-se,
mas, sendo um só, só um caminho eu tomaria.
Assim, por longo tempo eu ali me detive,
e um deles observei até um longe declive
no qual, dobrando, desaparecia…
Porém tomei o outro, igualmente viável,
e tendo mesmo um atrativo especial,
pois mais ramos possuía e talvez mais capim,
embora, quanto a isso, o caminhar, no fim,
os tivesse marcado por igual.
E ambos, nessa manhã, jaziam recobertos
de folhas que nenhum pisar enegrecera.
O primeiro deixei, oh, para um outro dia!
E, intuindo que um caminho outro caminho gera,
duvidei se algum dia eu voltaria.
Isto eu hei de contar mais tarde, num suspiro,
nalgum tempo ou lugar desta jornada extensa:
a estrada divergiu naquele bosque – e eu
segui pela que mais ínvia me pareceu,
e foi o que fez toda a diferença.
(Tradução: Renato Suttana)
THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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