And its time time time that you love . . .

So put a candle in the window and . . . . .

Well the smart moneys on harlow and the moon is in the street
And the shadow boys are breaking all the laws
And youre east of east saint louis and the wind is making speeches
And the rain sounds like a round of applause
And napoleon is weeping in a carnival saloon
His invisible fiancees in the mirror
And the band is going home, its raining hammers, its raining nails
And its true theres nothing left for him down here

And its time time time, and its time time time
And its time time time that you love
And its time time time

And they all pretend theyre orphans and their memorys like a train
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away
And the things you cant remember tell the things you cant forget
That history puts a saint in every dream

Well she said shed stick around until the bandages came off
But these mamas boys just dont know when to quit
And mathilda asks the sailors are those dreams or are those prayers?
So close your eyes, son, and this wont hurt a bit

Oh its time time time, and its time time time
And its time time time that you love
And its time time time

Well things are pretty lousy for a calendar girl
The boys just dive right off the cars and splash into the street
And when theyre on a roll she pulls a razor from her boot
And a thousand pigeons fall around her feet
So put a candle in the window and a kiss upon his lips
As the dish outside the window fills with rain
Just like a stranger with the weeds in your heart
And pay the fiddler off til I come back again

Oh its time time time, and its time time time
And its time time time that you love
And its time time time
And its time time time, and its time time time
And its time time time that you love
And its time time time

The song . . . .sung by Tom Waits


Tom Waits

The violin moon

Upon the violin moonlit night
Gentle chords played stars,

dancing

golden sand swirls entwined
Wave's murmured song's
slightest touch ebb flowed

kissed

Gathered clouds swaying
slow, shadows, glow,
Ocean's love ne'er spent

love

Souls song's eternal sung.

*Angelor

Beautiful violin music

Por Un Amor

Beautifully performed by linda Ronstadt

Por Un Amor
Me desvelo y vivo apasionada;
Tengo un amor
Que en mi vida dejo para siempre
amargo dolor
Pobre de mi
Esta vida mejor que se acabe
No es para mi . . .
Pobre de mi (ay corazon . . .);
Pobre de mi (no sufras mas . . .);
Cuanto sufre me pecho
Que late tan solo por ti.
Por un amore
He llorado gotitas de sangre
del corazon,
Me has dejado con el alma herida
Sin compasion . . .

Cheek to cheek

"Heaven, I'm in heaven . . ."

Painting by Maira Wallman

Heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

Heaven, I'm in heaven
And the cares that hung around me through the week
Seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak
When we're out together dancing (swinging) cheek to cheek

Oh I love to climb a mountain
And reach the highest peak
But it doesn't thrill (boot) me half as much

As dancing cheek to cheek

Oh I love to go out fishing
In a river or a creek
But I don't enjoy it half as much
As dancing cheek to cheek

Now Mamma Dance with me
I want my arm(s) about you
That (Those) charm(s) about you
Will carry me through...

(Right up) To heaven, I'm in heaven
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing, out together dancing (swinging)
Out together dancing cheek to cheek

The song: Cheek to cheek

Streets of London

Have you seen the old man In the closed-down market Kicking up the paper, with his worn out shoes? In his eyes you see no pride Hands held loosely at his side Yesterday's paper telling yesterday's news




So how can you tell me that you're lonely,
say for you that the sun don't shine and
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind






Have you seen the old girl
Who walks the streets of London
Dirt in her hair and her clothes in rags?
She's no time for talking,
She just keeps right on walking
Carrying her home in two carrier bags.






So how can you tell me that you're lonely,
say for you that the sun don't shine and
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind

In the all night cafe
At a quarter past eleven,
Same old man is sitting there on his own
Looking at the world
Over the rim of his tea-cup,
Each tea last an hour
Then he wanders home alone

So how can you tell me that you're lonely,
say for you that the sun don't shine and
Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind



And have you seen the old man
Outside the seaman's mission
Memory fading with
The medal ribbons that he wears.
In our winter city,
The rain cries a little pity
For one more forgotten hero
And a world that doesn't care

So how can you tell me that you're lonely,
say for you that the sun don't shine and
Let me take you by the hand lead you through the streets of London
I'll show you something to make you change your mind

The beautiful, but sad song . . . "Streets of London"

Die wagtertjie stap

Foto deur JacoHerbst


Die wagtertjie stap met sy bees na die kraal,
- die skowwe soos bultjies teen aandlug se vaal -
die wagtertjie suig uit sy ghoera 'n deun,
wat weemoedig en mooi in die skemering dreun.

Die beeste gaan stil in die voetpaadjie staan,
herkouend, en kyk 'n grys mannetjie aan,
wat skaars bo die grassaad sy korrelkop wys,
daar waar hy gebuk met sy bondeltjie reis.

Die ringe rinkink om die litjies so skraal,
die gesig is al oud, verrimpel en vaal;
opeens bly hy staan en sê sag vir die klong:
"Jy speel lekker, my tatta, he pappa se jong?"

Die wagtertjie skrik uit sy droom, sy hand
los die ghoera verward en dit val in die sand;
"Jo! Jo!" kreun hy hard, sy oë word wit,
van vrees gaan hy plat op sy hurke daar sit.


"Tokkelosie," so bibber sy stemmetjie swak;
die mannetjie kom, laat sy bondeltjie sak,
en vra met 'n stem wat soos donderwoord slaan:
"My swartpêr, hoe dink jy waar kom ekke vandaan?"

Die wagter se beentjies die rittel soos riet,
hy kyk na die ogies wat bliksems bly skiet,
toe antwoord hy skroom'rig - die eeu-oue plan:
"Jy kom doer van ver, ver van die blou berg vandaan!"

Die tokkelos lag; sy gesig soos 'n peer
deur die hitte verskrompel; hy vat sy bondeltjie weer,
"Dis reg, my klein jong, loop by die beeste maar saam;
die grootpêr hy trek by die blou berg; enne kom daarvandaan."

Toe roer net die grassaad waar 'n lyfie verdwyn,
in die vlei wat versink met 'n slingerlyn;
die beeste stap loom'rig en eensaam bly dreun
- soos 'n lied van die skeem'ring - die ghoera se deun.

C M van den Heever

Die Khoikhoi was goeie musiek- makers. Die windboog of 'ghoera' is kombinasie van 'n fluit en 'n boog. Die klanke word deur asemhaling voortbegring. Die windboog het geklink soos 'n trompet.

Die tokkelosie

in the house

in the house
(hein willemse:die stormtroepe is in die strate)

the americans are in the streets
the poets are addicted rappers
the pastors are panic-stricken prophets
the young boys wear earrings
the young girls carry the pregnant burden of life

the hard livings are in the streets
the women earn extra-marital dollars in sea point & at the waterfront
the old women anxiously await their pensions
the men queue jobless against padlocked gates
the old men are unclaimed baggage on stations with rusted
rails

the clever kids govern the streets
they bmw boys Xstatic from rave to rave
the streets are deserted
the west coast boys govern the streets

the writers are famous in foreign countries
the preachers are ghetto-blastered into silent submission
by tupac shakur & puff daddy
the virgins carry mandrax in their barren barrels
the corpses mushroom red like roses under white sheets
on the pavements

the 28's are in the streets
the boys wear caterpillars

the clever kids bump & grind more clever kids out onto the
streets
the girls wear designer jeans

the gangs are liberated
there are no children in the streets

clinton v du plessis:evangelis van die nihilisme