Just keep playing your part

I love the way you're breaking my heart
It's terribly, terribly, terribly, terribly thrilling
I love the way you're breaking my heart
Although you're gonna ruin it
It's heaven while you're doin' it
I love the way I feel when we kiss
You're terribly, terribly, terribly irresistible
Sigh to me, and lie to me, you really know how
It's gonna hurt tomorrow, but it feels so good now
So darling, just keep playing your part
Take your time and really finish the things that you start
'Cause I love the way you're breaking my heart!


Geoffrey Hill

Os tiranos sempre querem uma linguagem e uma literatura de fácil compreensão. 
A tirania exige a simplificação.

On Reading Crowds and Power


Cloven, we are incorporate, our wounds
simple but mysterious. We have
some wherewithal to bide our time on earth.
Endurance is fantastic; ambulances
battling at intersections, the city
intolerably en fête. My reflexes
are words themselves rather than standard
flexures of civil power. In all of this
Cassiopeia's a blessing
as is steady Orion beloved of poets.
Quotidian natures ours for the time being
I do not know
how we should be absolved or what is fate.

Fame is not fastidious about the lips 
which spread it. So long as there are mouths 
to reiterate the one name it does not 
matter whose they are. 
The fact that to the seeker after fame 
they are indistinguishable from each other 
and are all counted as equal shows that this 
passion has its origin in the experience 
of crowd manipulation. Names collect 
their own crowds. They are greedy, live their own 
separate lives, hardly at all connected 
with the real natures of the men who bear them. 

But hear this: that which is difficult 
preserves democracy; you pay respect 
to the intelligence of the citizen. 
Basics are not condescension. Some 
tyrants make great patrons. Let us observe 
this and pass on. Certain directives 
parody at your own risk. Tread lightly 
with personal dignity and public image. 
Safeguard the image of the common man.  

September Song
born 19.6.32 - deported 24.9.42

Undesirable you may have been, untouchable
you were not. Not forgotten
or passed over at the proper time.

As estimated, you died. Things marched,
sufficient, to that end.
Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented
terror, so many routine cries.

(I have made
an elegy for myself it
is true)

September fattens on vines. Roses
flake from the wall. The smoke
of harmless fires drifts to my eyes.

This is plenty. This is more than enough.


Vivre pour vivre

 L'habitude qui nous lie, 
C'est le corps du délit
Qui accuse ma vie
Le combat que nous menons
Dissimule son nom
Au nom de la raison
On se déchire, on se débat
Si l'on voit en cela
Qu'on ne renonce pas, 
C'est vivre pour vivre

Pour vivre on répond présent
Quand on sent le présent
Qui nous semble impatient
A chacun sa vérité
Le présent, le passé
Vont bien s'y retrouver
Mais si l'on garde le désir
Au moment de choisir
De plaquer l'avenir, 
C'est vivre pour vivre

J'ai le cœur qui se prolonge
Il absorbe mes mensonges
Quand je plonge
Au fil de mes amours
Mais la vie reprend son cours
Dans le courant de mes jours
Mon cœur s'y lave toujours
Quand je l'appelle au secours, au secours

Quand de New York à Paris
On peut changer sa vie
En sept heures et demie
Quand de Paris-Amsterdam
On ne fait plus qu'un drame
De la vie d'une femme
Et quand, par orgueil ou passion, 
Un voyage en avion
Remet tout en question, 
C'est vivre pour vivre

Oh, c'est vivre pour vivre
C'est vivre pour vivre
Vivre pour vivre
Vivre pour vivre