imaginaerum Song Of Myself

[Evi 1960]

"Song Of Myself"

 

I. From A Dusty Bookshelf

 

II. All That Great Heart Lying Still

 

The nightingale is still locked in the cage

The deep breath I took still poisons my lungs

An old oak sheltering me from the blue

Sun bathing on its dead frozen leaves

 

A catnap in the ghost town of my heart

She dreams of storytime and the river ghosts

Of mermaids, of Whitman`s and the Ride

Raving harlequins, gigantic toys

 

A song of me a song in need

Of a courageous symphony

A verse of me a verse in need

Of a pure-heart singing me to peace

 

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing

 

All that great heart lying still

In silent suffering

Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end

What is left for encore

Is the same old Dead Boy`s song

Sung in silence

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing

 

A midnight flight into Covington Woods

A princess and a panther by my side

These are Territories I live for

I`d still give my everything to love you more

 

(repeat br.+ch.)

 

III. Piano Black

 

A silent symphony

A hollow opus #1,2,3

 

Sometimes the sky is piano black

Piano black over cleansing waters

 

Resting pipes, verse of bore

Rusting keys without a door

 

Sometimes the within is piano black

Piano black over cleansing waters

 

All that great heart lying still and slowly dying

All that great heart lying still on an angelwing

 

IV. Love

 

I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street, with a begging bowl in his shaking hand.

Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices.

I do, but walk by.

 

An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic.

It`s half-light and he`s in tears.

When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.

 

I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me.

All pride has left his wild drooling eyes.

I wish I had my leg to spare.

 

A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars.

She`s never loved him more.

 

An obese girl enters an elevator with me.

All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck.

Terribly sweet perfume deafens me.

She`s going to dinner alone.

That makes her even more beautiful.

 

I see a model`s face on a brick wall.

A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill.

A city that worships flesh.

 

The 1st thing I ever heard was a wandering man telling his story

It was you, the grass under my bare feet

The campfire in the dead of the night

The heavenly black of sky and sea

 

It was us

Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches

Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn

Bathing in places no-one`s seen before

Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island

Clad in nothing but the surf – beauty`s finest robe

 

Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature

In early air of the dawn of life

A sight to silence the heavens

 

I want to travel where life travels, following its permanent lead

Where the air tastes like snow music

Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden

I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture

I would bathe in a world of sensation

Love, Goodness, and Simplicity

( While violated and imprisoned by technology )

 

The thought of my family`s graves was the only moment I used to experience true love

That love remains infinite, as I`ll never be the man my father is

 

How can you „just be yourself” when you don`t know who you are?

Stop saying „I know how you feel”

How could anyone know how another feels?

 

Who am I to judge a priest, beggar, whore, politician, wrongdoer?

I am, you are, all of them already

 

Dear child, stop working, go play

Forget every rule

There`s no fear in a dream

 

Is there a village inside this snowflake?

- a child asked me

What`s the color of our lullaby?

 

I`ve never been so close to truth as then

I touched its silver lining

 

Death is the winner in any war

Nothing noble in dying for your religion

For your country

For ideology, for faith

For another man, yes

 

Paper is dead without words

Ink idle without a poem

All the world dead without stories

Without love and disarming beauty

 

Careless realism costs souls

 

Ever seen the Lord smile?

All the care for the world made Beautiful a sad man?

Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks?

Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is

All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground

 

I see all those empty cradles and wonder

If man will ever change

 

I, too, wish to be a decent manboy but all I am

Is smoke and mirrors

Still given everything, may I be deserving

 

And there forever remains that change from G to Em

 

Tłumaczenie -> KLIK

__________

Jak rozumiesz utwór? Jego wybrany fragment lub całość? Może jest w nim jakaś wyjątkowa myśl, która jest dla Ciebie ważna?

[Evi 1960]

Ten utwór wymaga dłuższej interpretacji, najlepiej z odniesieniem się do twórczości Whitmana, której niestety jeszcze zbyt dobrze nie zdążyłam poznać, dlatego liczę na pomoc tych bardziej wyedukowanych osób ;)

 

Jest to jeden z moich faworytów na płycie. Teksty recytowane na końcu dają czas na zastanowienie się przez chwilę nad życiem. Piosenka zwalnia, uspokaja się i uspokaja słuchacza.

 

Chętnie zinterpretowałabym tę piosenkę, ale czuję, że trochę mnie to przerasta... Jeżeli jednak ktoś napisałby choć trochę od siebie to z przyjemnością przyłączę się do dyskusji :P

[beatag60 2263]

Tekst jest niezwykle piękny i wymowny- jak dotąd, dla mnie najlepsza tekstowa kompozycja w Nightwish.

Czuję w nim skargę/ubolewanie nad nieprawością ludzi, nad nieszanowaniem inności każdego, nad brakiem zrozumienia zachowań. Autor bardzo chce kochać wszystkich, ale ludzkie słabostki charakterologiczne nie pozwalają na czystą miłość bliźniego- co nie pozwala spokojnie żyć i zwyczajnie cieszyć się życia darem. Marzy o bajkowej rzeczywistości, która ogólnie jest mocno możliwa, gdyby nie słabości grzesznego człowieka. Wytyka ludziom pozerstwo, brak zwyczajnego odruchu współczucia i obojętność na cały otaczający świat.

Tekst jest bardzo emocjonujący, mimo porównań bardzo konkretny i zwyczajnie mądry. Szczerze przyznam, że jego analiza/interpretacja to temat rzeka:)