Friday, January 6, 2012
Programa destacado de 678: para Piñera no hubo dictadura en Chile
La cobertura de los diarios, para Piñera no hubo dictadura en Chile
Programa 678 - 05-01-12 (1 de 4)
678 - 05-01-12 (2 de 4)
678 - 05-01-12 (3 de 4)
678 - 05-01-12 (4 de 4)
"Pobre de aquel que nos recuerde que la historia se termina..."
Ismael Serrano
Sting - They dance alone
Sting & Peter Gabriel - They dance alone - Argentina 1988
Why are these women here dancing on their own?
Why is there this sadness in their eyes?
Why are the soldiers here
Their faces fixed like stone?
I can't see what it is they despise
They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons
They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone
They dance alone
It's the only form of protest they're allowed
I've seen their silent faces scream so loud
If they were to speak these words
they'd go missing too
Another woman on the torture table
what else can they do
They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons
They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone
They dance alone
One day we'll dance on their graves
One day we'll sing our freedom
One day we'll laugh in our joy
And we'll dance
One day we'll dance on their graves
One day we'll sing our freedom
One day we'll laugh in our joy
And we'll dance
Ellas danzan con los desaparecidos
Ellas danzan con los muertos
Ellas danzan con amores invisibles
Ellas danzan con silenciosa angistia
Danzan con sus padres
Danzan con sus hijos
Danzan con sus esposos
Ellas danzan solas
Danzan solas
Hey Mr. Pinochet
You've sown a bitter crop
It's foreign money that supports you
One day the money's going to stop
No wages for your torturers
No budget for your guns
Can you think of your own mother
Dancin' with her invisible son
They're dancing with the missing
They're dancing with the dead
They dance with the invisible ones
Their anguish is unsaid
They're dancing with their fathers
They're dancing with their sons
They're dancing with their husbands
They dance alone
They dance alone
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Bruce N: King Without A Crown
The End..
Matisyahu - King Without A Crown
You're all that I have and you're all that I need
Each and every night I pray to get to know you please
I wanna to be close to you, yes I'm so hungry
You're like food for my body when it gets hungry
Without you there's no me
You're the air that I x hale
Sometimes the world is light and I just can't look
With these, demons surround all around to bring me down to negativity
But I believe, yes I believe, I said I believe
I'll stand on my own two hands
Won't be brought down on one elbow
Fight with all of my might and get these angles to go to jail
Hashem's rays fire blaze burn bright and I dont believe
Hashem's rays fire blaze burn bright and I dont believe
Out of darkness comes light, twilight unto the heights
Crown Heights burnin' up all through the twilight
Said, thank you to my God, now I finally got it right
And I'll fight with all of my heart, and all a' my soul, and all a' my might
What's this feeling?
My love will rip a hole in the ceiling
I give myself to you now from the essence of my being
And I sing to my God songs of love and healing
I want Mashiach now, time we start revealing
Me no want no sinsemilla
That would only bring me down
Burn away by brain no way my brain is too compound
Elevate on my soul you're a fire in my sound
Like the sun over some rain earning up to a clowd
Torah food for my brain let it rain till I drown
Thunder!
Let the blessing's come down
Strip away the layers and reveal your soul
Give yourself up and then you become whole
You're a slave to yourself and you don't even know
You want to live the fast life but your brain moves slow
If you're trying to stay high then you're bound to stay low
You want God but you can't deflate your ego
If you're already there then there's nowhere to go
If you're cup's already full then its bound to overflow
If you're drowning in the waters and you can't stay afloat
Ask Hashem for mercy and he'll throw you a rope
You're looking for help from God you say he couldn't be found
Looking up to the sky and looking beneath the ground
Like a King without his Crown
Yes I wanna get down
King without his Crown
Yes I keep fallin' down
You really want to live but can't get rid of your frown
Tried to reach unto the heights and wound bound down on the ground
What's this feeling?
My love will rip a hole through the ceiling
I give myself to you from the essence of my being
And I sing to my God this song of love and healing
I want Mashiach now and it's time to starts revealing
Reelin' him in, reel in him
Where ya been
Where ya been for so long
It's hard to stay strong
I've been living in galus for a life too long
I said where you've been
Where ya been for so long
Monday, January 2, 2012
Luna is not in peace yet...
Jane Siberry - It can't rain all the time - The Crow
We walked the narrow path,
beneath the smoking skies.
Sometimes you can barely tell the difference
between darkness and light.
Do you have faith
in what we believe?
The truest test is when we cannot,
when we cannot see.
[SUNG:]
I hear pounding feet in the,
in the streets below, and the,
and the women crying and the,
and the children know that there,
that there's something wrong,
and it's hard to belive that love will prevail.
Oh it won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall forever.
Oh, when I'm lonely,
I lie awake at night
and I wish you were here.
I miss you.
Can you tell me
is there something more to belive in?
Or is this all there is?
In the pounding feet, in the,
In the streets below, and the,
And the window breaks and,
And a woman falls, there's,
There's something wrong, it's,
It's so hard to belive that love will prevail.
Oh it won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall
forever.
Last night I had a dream.
You came into my room,
you took me into your arms.
Whispering and kissing me,
and telling me to still belive.
But then the emptiness of a burning sea against which we see
our darkest of sadness.
Until I felt safe and warm.
I fell asleep in your arms.
When I awoke I cried again for you were gone.
Oh, can you hear me?
It won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall forever.
It won't rain all the time
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall, your tears won't fall,
your tears won't fall
forever.
Kung Fu, The Art of the Wise Woman
The Power of Women
"Cada vez conozco más viejos que caminan casi de medio lado. Seguramente el paso del cangrejo es también el del sabio que no sólo mira al otro lado, sino que también va disfrutando del camino dejado tras de sí...."
Oogway ascends - Kung Fu Panda
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Justicia
Se esta haciendo Justicia, pero aun falta...
Joan Manuel Serrat - Pare (Padre)
Pare
digueu-me què
li han fet al riu
que ja no canta.
Rellisca
com un barb
mort sota un pam
d'escuma blanca.
Pare
que el riu ja no és el riu.
Pare
abans que torni l'estiu
amagui tot el que és viu.
Pare
digueu-me què
li han fet al bosc
que no hi ha arbres.
A l'hivern
no tindrem foc
ni a l'estiu lloc
per aturar-se.
Pare
que el bosc ja no és el bosc.
Pare
abans de que no es faci fosc
ompliu de vida el rebost.
Sense llenya i sense peixos, pare,
ens caldrà cremar la barca,
llaurar el blat entre les enrunes, pare
i tancar amb tres panys la casa
i deia vostè...
Pare
si no hi ha pins
no es fan pinyons
ni cucs, ni ocells.
Pare
on no hi ha flors
no es fan abelles,
cera, ni mel.
Pare
que el camp ja no és el camp.
Pare
demà del cel plourà sang.
El vent ho canta plorant.
Padre,
decidme qué
le han hecho al río
que ya no canta.
Resbala como un barbo
muerto bajo un palmo
de espuma blanca.
Padre,
que el río ya no es el río.
Padre,
antes de que vuelva el verano
esconda todo lo que tiene vida.
Padre,
decidme qué
le han hecho al bosque
que no hay árboles.
En invierno
no tendremos fuego
ni en verano sitio
donde resguardarnos.
Padre,
que el bosque ya no es el bosque.
Padre,
antes de que oscurezca
llenad de vida la despensa.
Sin leña y sin peces, padre
tendremos que quemar la barca,
labrar el trigo entre las ruinas, padre,
y cerrar con tres cerraduras la casa
y decía usted,
padre,
si no hay pinos
no se hacen piñones,
ni gusanos, ni pájaros.
Padre,
donde no hay flores
no hay abejas,
ni cera, ni miel.
Padre,
que el campo ya no es el campo.
Padre,
mañana del cielo lloverá sangre.
El viento lo canta llorando.
Padre,
ya están aquí...
Monstruos de carne
con gusanos de hierro.
Padre,
no tengáis miedo,
decid que no,
que yo os espero.
Padre,
que están matando la tierra.
Padre,
dejad de llorar
que nos han declarado la guerra.
Joan Manuel Serrat - Algo Personal
Probablemente en su pueblo se les recordará
como cachorros de buenas personas,
que hurtaban flores para regalar a su mamá
y daban de comer a las palomas.
Probablemente que todo eso debe ser verdad,
aunque es más turbio cómo y de qué manera
llegaron esos individuos a ser lo que son
ni a quién sirven cuando alzan las banderas.
Hombres de paja que usan la colonia y el honor
para ocultar oscuras intenciones:
tienen doble vida, son sicarios del mal.
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
Rodeados de protocolo, comitiva y seguridad,
viajan de incógnito en autos blindados
a sembrar calumnias, a mentir con naturalidad,
a colgar en las escuelas su retrato.
Se gastan más de lo que tienen en coleccionar
espías, listas negras y arsenales;
resulta bochornoso verles fanfarronear
a ver quién es el que la tiene más grande.
Se arman hasta los dientes en el nombre de la paz,
juegan con cosas que no tienen repuesto
y la culpa es del otro si algo les sale mal.
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
Y como quien en la cosa, nada tiene que perder.
Pulsan la alarma y rompen las promesas
y en nombre de quien no tienen el gusto de conocer
nos ponen la pistola en la cabeza.
Se agarran de los pelos, pero para no ensuciar
van a cagar a casa de otra gente
y experimentan nuevos métodos de masacrar,
sofisticados y a la vez convincentes.
No conocen ni a su padre cuando pierden el control,
ni recuerdan que en el mundo hay niños.
Nos niegan a todos el pan y la sal.
Entre esos tipos y yo hay algo personal.
Pero, eso sí, los sicarios no pierden ocasión
de declarar públicamente su empeño
en propiciar un diálogo de franca distensión
que les permita hallar un marco previo
que garantice unas premisas mínimas
que faciliten crear los resortes
que impulsen un punto de partida sólido y capaz
de este a oeste y de sur a norte,
donde establecer las bases de un tratado de amistad
que contribuya a poner los cimientos
de una plataforma donde edificar
un hermoso futuro de amor y paz.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Happy Times: The Royal Tenenbaums
Agnes Nigro's favourite movie.
Just like Agnes's family..
The Royal Tenenbaums
Margot and Richie, Tenenbaums
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Buenos Aires 2001...
Buenos Aires 2001...
Ismael Serrano - Buenos Aires 2001
Mis manos y estas calles son láminas de hielo.
Te busco perdido por San Telmo,
colgado de los cables que unen los tejados.
La lluvia cae como una vieja canción de los Stones,
como el ángel que empujaron de un avión.
Y siempre es jueves en la Plaza de Mayo.
Te busco tras el vaho de un cristal del colectivo
y, en la cena, los malvados de mis amigos
me preguntan una y otra vez por ti.
Y caen los rostros en los charcos de Corrientes,
bajo hojas secas guarda sus sueños la gente.
Y en la tormenta, senadores que escapan,
cristales rotos frente a la Casa Rosada.
Los autos pasan lentos como una manada de elefantes,
en lo oscuro una mujer me ofrece mate
y Charlie salta por mí desde un rascacielos.
Hoy Boca gana y una joven que me recuerda a ti
hace las maletas. El FMI te desnuda en el peor invierno.
Hoy te he dejado grabada esta ciudad en el contestador.
De fondo se oye, cada día canta mejor,
siglo veinte, cambalache, problemático y febril.
Y tarareas una canción de los Redondos.
Hoy iré al río, te buscaré en el fondo.
Mafalda juega a la guerra nuclear.
Iré a San Telmo, hoy te tengo que encontrar.
U2 - Pride (In The Name Of Love) - Martin Luther King
One man come in the name of love
One man come and go.
One man come he to justify
One man to overthrow.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
One man caught on a barbed wire fence
One man he resist
One man washed up on an empty beach
One man betrayed with a kiss.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
Early morning, April four
Shot rings out in the Memphis sky.
Free at last, they took your life
They could not take your pride.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
In the name of love
What more in the name of love.
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