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domenica 7 dicembre 2008

If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is: Infinite. --William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

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I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I have climbed the highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire
I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into oneWell, yes, I'm still running
You broke the bonds and you
Loosed the chains
Carried the cross
And all my shame
All my shame
You know I believe it
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for..

U2

sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Non sarà che alle nozze di animi costanti
io ammetta impedimenti, amore non è amore
che muta quando scopre mutamenti,
o a separarsi inclina quando altri si separa.
Oh no, è un faro irremovibile
che mira la procella e mai ne viene scosso;
è lìastro cui si volge ogni errabonda nave
remoto il suo valore, pur se il suo luogo noto.
Zimbello esso non è del tempo anche se rosee labbra
e guance, sian raggiunte dalla sua curva falce,
on si altera amore per ore e giorni brevi,
ma impavido resiste fino all'abisso estremo.

Se questo è errore, e contro me si provi,
Mai non ho scritto, e mai nessuno ha amato.