These are two other favourites of mine: I love the double meanings! They are amazing because even though they were released in 1982, they are really like a summary of James Cameron's film!
Titanic
La prima classe costa mille lire,
la seconda cento, la terza dolore e spavento
e puzza di sudore dal boccaporto
e odore di mare morto.
Sior Capitano mi stia a sentire,
ho belle e pronte le mille lire,
in prima classe voglio viaggiare
su questo splendido mare.
Ci sta mia figlia che ha quindici anni ed a Parigi ha comprato un cappello,
se ci invitasse al suo tavolo a cena stasera come sarebbe bello.
E con l'orchestra che ci accompagna con questi nuovi ritmi americani,
saluteremo la Gran Bretagna col bicchiere tra le mani
e con il ghiaccio dentro al bicchiere faremo un brindisi tintinnante
a questo viaggio davvero mondiale, a questa luna gigante.
Ma chi l'ha detto che in terza classe,
che in terza classe si viaggia male,
questa cuccetta sembra un letto a due piazze,
ci si sta meglio che in ospedale.
A noi cafoni ci hanno sempre chiamati
ma qui ci trattano da signori,
che quando piove si può star dentro
ma col bel tempo veniamo fuori.
Su questo mare nero come il petrolio ad ammirare questa luna metallo
e quando suonano le sirene ci sembra quasi che canti il gallo.
Ci sembra quasi che il ghiaccio che abbiamo nel cuore piano piano
si vada a squagliare in mezzo al fumo di questo vapore di questa vacanza in alto mare.
E gira gira gira gira l'elica e gira gira che piove e nevica,
per noi ragazzi di terza classe che per non morire si va in America.
E il marconista sulla sua torre,
le lunghe dita celesti nell'aria,
riceveva messaggi d'auguri
per questa crociera straordinaria.
E trasmetteva saluti e speranze
in quasi tutte le lingue del mondo,
comunicava tra Vienna e Chicago
in poco meno di un secondo.
E la ragazza di prima classe, innamorata del proprio cappello,
quando la sera lo vide ballare lo trovò subito molto bello.
Forse per via di quegli occhi di ghiaccio così difficili da evitare,
pensò "Magari con un pò di coraggio, prima dell'arrivo mi farò baciare".
E com'è bella la vita stasera, tra l'amore che tira e un padre che predica,
per noi ragazze di prima classe che per sposarci si va in America,
per noi ragazze di prima classe che per sposarci si va in America.
Titanic
First class costs a thousand dollars
The second a hundred, the third pain and fright
And stink of sweat from the hatch
And smell of dead sea.
Captain, Sir, listen here,
I have the thousand dollars ready,
I want to travel in first class
On this splendid sea.
There is my daughter who bought a hat in Paris,
If you invited us to your table for dinner tonight it would be swell.
And with the orchestra playing for us with these new American rhythms,
We'll say goodbye to Great Britain with a glass in our hands.
And with the ice in the glass, will make a clinking toast
To this real worldwide trip, to this gigantic moon.
Who said that in third class,
In third class travelling is bad,
This bunkbed looks like a king size,
It's better than at the hospital.
They always called us peasants
But here they treat us like lords
That when it rains we can stay inside
But when it's sunny we come out.
On this sea, black as oil, admiring this metal moon
And when the sirens whistle it seems to us like the rooster is crowing.
It seems to us that the ice we have in our hearts
Is slowly starting to melt in the smoke of this steamship, of this high-sea vacation.
And the propeller spins and spins, it spins and spins, rain or shine
For us third-class boys who are going to America so as not to die.
And the wireless operator on his tower
His long, sky-blue fingers in the air
Was receiving best wishes messages
For this extraordinary cruise.
And he transmitted greetings and hopes
In almost all the languages in the world,
He communicated between Vienna and Chicago
In just less than a second.
And the first-class girl, in love with her hat,
When she saw him dance that night thought him at once very handsome.
Maybe because of those icy eyes, so hard to avoid,
She thought "Maybe with a little bit of courage, before we arrive, I will let him kiss me".
And how beautiful is life tonight, between love thriving and a priest preaching
For us first-class girls who go to America to get married,
For us first-class girls who go to America to get married.
I Muscoli Del Capitano
Guarda i muscoli del capitano, tutti di plastica e di metano.
Guardalo nella notte che viene, quanto sangue ha nelle vene.
Il capitano non tiene mai paura, dritto sul cassero,
fuma la pipa, in questa alba fresca e scura che rassomiglia un po' alla vita.
E poi il capitano, se vuole, si leva l'ancora dai pantaloni
e la getta nelle onde e chiama forte quando vuole qualcosa o qualcuno
c'è sempre uno che gli risponde.
Ma capitano non te lo volevo dire,
ma c'è in mezzo al mare una donna bianca,
così enorme, alla luce delle stelle,
così bella, che di guardarla uno non si stanca.
Questa nave fa duemila nodi, in mezzo ai ghiacci tropicali,
ed ha un motore di un milione di cavalli
che al posto degli zoccoli hanno le ali.
La nave è fulmine, torpedine, miccia,
scintillante bellezza, fosforo, fantasia, molecole d'acciaio,
pistone, rabbia, guerra lampo e poesia.
In questa notte elettrica e veloce, in questa croce di Novecento,
il futuro è una palla di cannone accesa e noi la stiamo quasi raggiungendo.
E il capitano dice al mozzo di bordo
"Giovanotto, io non vedo niente.
C'è solo un po' di nebbia che annuncia il sole.
Andiamo avanti tranquillamente".
The Captain's Muscles
Look at the captain's muscles, all of plastic and methane.
Look at him in the falling night, how much blood he has in his veins.
The captain is never afraid, standing straight on the quarterdeck,
He smokes his pipe, in this dawn, fresh and dark, that resembles life.
And then the captain, whenever he wants, pulls the anchor out of his pants
and throws it in the waves and calls loudly when he wants something or someone
There's always someone who answers him.
But captain, I didn't want to tell you,
But there's a white woman in the middle of the sea,
So huge, in the light of the stars,
So beautiful, that you never tire of looking at her.
This ship goes two thousand knots, amid the tropical icebergs,
and has an engine of one million horses
that have wings instead of hooves.
This ship is lightning, torpedo, fuse,
Shining beauty, phosphorus, fantasy, steel molecules,
Piston, anger, blitzkrieg and poetry.
In this night, electric and fast, in this crossing of Nienteen-hundred,
The future is a lit cannonball and we are almost reaching it.
And the captain tells the deckboy
"Young man, I don't see anything.
There's only a bit of fog announcing the sun.
Let's go on, nothing to worry".
16 August, 2009
Just Because Today I Feel A Bit Homesick
I am perfectly happy to be living in Australia, I believe I am one of the luckiest people in the world because I am living my dream, so I'm certainly not complaining and I have no intention to go back, but still... sometimes I do miss my country of origin, my family, my friends, my language, etc.
So, also because Bobby Long reminds me a bit of him, I'm going to post a song by my favourite Italian singer/songwriter, Francesco De Gregori (the translation can be found further below).
Generale
Generale, dietro la collina
ci sta la notte crucca e assassina,
e in mezzo al prato c'è una contadina,
curva sul tramonto sembra una bambina,
di cinquant'anni e di cinque figli,
venuti al mondo come conigli,
partiti al mondo come soldati
e non ancora tornati.
Generale, dietro la stazione
lo vedi il treno che portava al sole,
non fa più fermate neanche per pisciare,
si va dritti a casa senza più pensare,
che la guerra è bella anche se fa male,
che torneremo ancora a cantare
e a farci fare l'amore,
l'amore delle infermiere.
Generale, la guerra è finita,
il nemico è scappato, è vinto, è battuto,
dietro la collina non c'è più nessuno,
solo aghi di pino e silenzio e funghi
buoni da mangiare, buoni da seccare,
da farci il sugo quando è Natale,
quando i bambini piangono
e a dormire non ci vogliono andare.
Generale, queste cinque stelle,
queste cinque lacrime sulla mia pelle
che senso hanno dentro al rumore di questo treno,
che è mezzo vuoto e mezzo pieno
e va veloce verso il ritorno,
tra due minuti è quasi giorno,
è quasi casa, è quasi amore.
General, Sir
General, Sir, behind the hill
There is the night, German and murderous,
And amid the field there is a peasant,
Bent in the sunset, she looks like a little girl
Of fifty years and five sons,
Come into the world like rabbits,
Gone into the world as soldiers
And not yet returned.
General, Sir, behind the station
Do you see the train that led to the sun
It no longer stops over, not even to wee,
We go straight home, no longer thinking
That war is good even though it hurts,
That we will sing again
And make love,
Make love with the nurses.
General, Sir, the war is over,
The enemy has fled, it's defeated, it's beaten,
Behind the hill there is no one anymore
Only pine needles and silence and mushrooms
Good to eat, good to dry,
To make sauce when Christmas comes,
When children cry
And don't want to go to bed.
General, Sir, these five stars,
These five tears on my skin
What sense do they make in the noise of this train,
That is half empty and half full
And runs fast towards the return,
In two minutes it's almost day,
It's almost home, it's almost love.
*sniff*
So, also because Bobby Long reminds me a bit of him, I'm going to post a song by my favourite Italian singer/songwriter, Francesco De Gregori (the translation can be found further below).
Generale
Generale, dietro la collina
ci sta la notte crucca e assassina,
e in mezzo al prato c'è una contadina,
curva sul tramonto sembra una bambina,
di cinquant'anni e di cinque figli,
venuti al mondo come conigli,
partiti al mondo come soldati
e non ancora tornati.
Generale, dietro la stazione
lo vedi il treno che portava al sole,
non fa più fermate neanche per pisciare,
si va dritti a casa senza più pensare,
che la guerra è bella anche se fa male,
che torneremo ancora a cantare
e a farci fare l'amore,
l'amore delle infermiere.
Generale, la guerra è finita,
il nemico è scappato, è vinto, è battuto,
dietro la collina non c'è più nessuno,
solo aghi di pino e silenzio e funghi
buoni da mangiare, buoni da seccare,
da farci il sugo quando è Natale,
quando i bambini piangono
e a dormire non ci vogliono andare.
Generale, queste cinque stelle,
queste cinque lacrime sulla mia pelle
che senso hanno dentro al rumore di questo treno,
che è mezzo vuoto e mezzo pieno
e va veloce verso il ritorno,
tra due minuti è quasi giorno,
è quasi casa, è quasi amore.
General, Sir
General, Sir, behind the hill
There is the night, German and murderous,
And amid the field there is a peasant,
Bent in the sunset, she looks like a little girl
Of fifty years and five sons,
Come into the world like rabbits,
Gone into the world as soldiers
And not yet returned.
General, Sir, behind the station
Do you see the train that led to the sun
It no longer stops over, not even to wee,
We go straight home, no longer thinking
That war is good even though it hurts,
That we will sing again
And make love,
Make love with the nurses.
General, Sir, the war is over,
The enemy has fled, it's defeated, it's beaten,
Behind the hill there is no one anymore
Only pine needles and silence and mushrooms
Good to eat, good to dry,
To make sauce when Christmas comes,
When children cry
And don't want to go to bed.
General, Sir, these five stars,
These five tears on my skin
What sense do they make in the noise of this train,
That is half empty and half full
And runs fast towards the return,
In two minutes it's almost day,
It's almost home, it's almost love.
*sniff*
08 August, 2009
And Now, For Something Completely Different: My Case For Robert Pattinson As Rand al’Thor
One of my favourite book series is The Wheel Of Time by late author Robert Jordan. It’s a series that had reached 11 (yes, e-l-e-v-e-n) books when Robert Jordan died of amyloidosis, in 2007. Before he died, though, he managed, working literally until his last breath, to lay out the plot (and then some) for the conclusion of the series, which is currently being completed by Brandon Sanderson, a fellow author personally chosen by Robert Jordan’s wife (as well as editor) for this task. There will be three more books. That’s how much material Robert Jordan left.
It’s a great, epic tale, so detailed, so rich in cultures, landscapes, and twists that it gives Tolkien’s Lord Of The Rings a good run for its money. Robert Jordan’s passing was indeed a huge loss to the world.
If you like fantasy stories, and you have not yet done so, I recommend that you read this. Here is a link to the official website (beware of spoilers!): Dragonmount
Now, the first book in the series, The Eye Of The World, is apparently going to be made into a film, set for release in 2011, according to IMDB (read: it might never be done). There are no details yet on who will direct it, who will write the screenplay (please let it not be Melissa Rosenberg!), and let alone who will be cast for the main roles, so there’s sheer space for speculation.
That said, I am perfectly aware that it is highly unlikely that Rob will be chosen for this role (because he might be considered as too old, although Rand is in his early twenties, too, and I don’t expect Rob to look that much older next year, or even in a couple of years), or that he will even take into consideration getting involved (as something tells me it will be a very, *very* looooooong time before he gets himself caught in another “franchise”), BUT… a girl can still dream, so here goes.
First of all, here is a physical description of Rand al’Thor:
P. 3 – “An Empty Road” – Book 1, The Eye Of The World
“He was a head taller than his father, taller than anyone else in the district, and had little of Tam in him physically, except perhaps for a breadth of shoulder. Gray eyes and the reddish tinge to his hair came from his mother, so Tam said.”
From Wikipedia
“Rand has grey or blue (interchanging) eyes and a reddish tint to his blonde hair. He is about 6'5" or 6'6" (196-197 cm) (as described by Robert Jordan).”
Tall – check (OK, he is not 6’5”, but he definitely stands out)
Broad shoulders – check (come on, they are good enough, now that he’s buffed up a bit)
Grey/blue eyes – check
Reddish tint in blond hair – check
Rand’s character traits:
P. 9 – “An Empty Road” – Book 1, The Eye Of The World
“Like most Two Rivers folk, Rand had a strong stubborn streak.”
P. 42 – “The Peddler” – Book 1, The Eye Of The World
“At the best of times he was never very nimble with his tongue when talking to any of the village girls…”
Stubbornness – check (being a Taurus, he should be able to play stubborn pretty well… hee!)
Shyness – check (he is shy by nature and anyway, check out his portrayal of Salvador Dalì)
MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!
Development of the character throughout the story (from Wikipedia):
“Rand has changed a great deal from the boy who left Emond's Field two years ago. He has gone from the stubborn boy who refused to accept he was anything more than a simple sheepherder, to an iron-willed man who sometimes seems to have lost all trace of humanity. Having grown up with the belief that men should protect women, he has memorized the name of every woman who has died for him (at one point spending an entire night among the corpses in the aftermath of a major battle, Dumai's Wells, and then reciting the names to his best friend and right-hand man, Lord Perrin Aybara of the Two Rivers) and often berates himself with the list and the associated guilt. Many, of those around him, worry about his sanity; others (most notably the aforementioned Cadsuane and Sorilea) worry about his humanity. Also notable, he has developed claustrophobia due to events in Lord of Chaos, when he was trapped in a box by Aes Sedai sent by Elaida, taken out only to be beaten daily.”
So, it is a complex character with many facets and an endless range of emotions that I am sure Rob would be able to portray brilliantly (think The Bad Mother’s Handbook, Little Ashes, The Haunted Airman in order, as a progression of the character). The parts that I have highlighted are the reasons why I think it would be a character that Rob might like to play, especially when Rand starts swaying dangerously on the brink of insanity.
And if that's not reason enough, have a look at the emotional and expression range displayed in these shots:
.jpg)
It’s a great, epic tale, so detailed, so rich in cultures, landscapes, and twists that it gives Tolkien’s Lord Of The Rings a good run for its money. Robert Jordan’s passing was indeed a huge loss to the world.
If you like fantasy stories, and you have not yet done so, I recommend that you read this. Here is a link to the official website (beware of spoilers!): Dragonmount
Now, the first book in the series, The Eye Of The World, is apparently going to be made into a film, set for release in 2011, according to IMDB (read: it might never be done). There are no details yet on who will direct it, who will write the screenplay (please let it not be Melissa Rosenberg!), and let alone who will be cast for the main roles, so there’s sheer space for speculation.
That said, I am perfectly aware that it is highly unlikely that Rob will be chosen for this role (because he might be considered as too old, although Rand is in his early twenties, too, and I don’t expect Rob to look that much older next year, or even in a couple of years), or that he will even take into consideration getting involved (as something tells me it will be a very, *very* looooooong time before he gets himself caught in another “franchise”), BUT… a girl can still dream, so here goes.
First of all, here is a physical description of Rand al’Thor:
P. 3 – “An Empty Road” – Book 1, The Eye Of The World
“He was a head taller than his father, taller than anyone else in the district, and had little of Tam in him physically, except perhaps for a breadth of shoulder. Gray eyes and the reddish tinge to his hair came from his mother, so Tam said.”
From Wikipedia
“Rand has grey or blue (interchanging) eyes and a reddish tint to his blonde hair. He is about 6'5" or 6'6" (196-197 cm) (as described by Robert Jordan).”
Tall – check (OK, he is not 6’5”, but he definitely stands out)
Broad shoulders – check (come on, they are good enough, now that he’s buffed up a bit)
Grey/blue eyes – check
Reddish tint in blond hair – check
Rand’s character traits:
P. 9 – “An Empty Road” – Book 1, The Eye Of The World
“Like most Two Rivers folk, Rand had a strong stubborn streak.”
P. 42 – “The Peddler” – Book 1, The Eye Of The World
“At the best of times he was never very nimble with his tongue when talking to any of the village girls…”
Stubbornness – check (being a Taurus, he should be able to play stubborn pretty well… hee!)
Shyness – check (he is shy by nature and anyway, check out his portrayal of Salvador Dalì)
MAJOR SPOILERS!!!!
Development of the character throughout the story (from Wikipedia):
“Rand has changed a great deal from the boy who left Emond's Field two years ago. He has gone from the stubborn boy who refused to accept he was anything more than a simple sheepherder, to an iron-willed man who sometimes seems to have lost all trace of humanity. Having grown up with the belief that men should protect women, he has memorized the name of every woman who has died for him (at one point spending an entire night among the corpses in the aftermath of a major battle, Dumai's Wells, and then reciting the names to his best friend and right-hand man, Lord Perrin Aybara of the Two Rivers) and often berates himself with the list and the associated guilt. Many, of those around him, worry about his sanity; others (most notably the aforementioned Cadsuane and Sorilea) worry about his humanity. Also notable, he has developed claustrophobia due to events in Lord of Chaos, when he was trapped in a box by Aes Sedai sent by Elaida, taken out only to be beaten daily.”
So, it is a complex character with many facets and an endless range of emotions that I am sure Rob would be able to portray brilliantly (think The Bad Mother’s Handbook, Little Ashes, The Haunted Airman in order, as a progression of the character). The parts that I have highlighted are the reasons why I think it would be a character that Rob might like to play, especially when Rand starts swaying dangerously on the brink of insanity.
And if that's not reason enough, have a look at the emotional and expression range displayed in these shots:
Angry
Charming
Irritated
Interested
Baffled
Slightly crazy
Thoughtful
Mildly surprised
Intrigued
Worried
Happy
Exhausted
Mischievous
Ironic
Intense
Disappointed
Frustrated
Resignated
Desperate
Build: tall, lean, and fit
I know it will never happen, but there it is. That’s who I see as Rand al’Thor, when I read the books :).
Images taken from various websites (quite obviously Socialite Life), please contact me so that I can credit you, if it’s not evident… I honestly don’t remember where I got them from (I’m pretty sure Robsessed and Robert Pattinson Australia are among them :) ).
07 August, 2009
A Moment Of Pride For Italian Diplomacy... NOT!
Why… why did God provide this dimwit with a mouth??? Whyyyyy??? If He wanted a laugh I could have told Him a joke! Why did He have to inflict this plague on us???
Here’s the translation of Silvio Berlusconi’s latest feat. I am seriously wondering how it is possible that he’s not yet been hit by God’s lightning…
Here’s the original article from La Repubblica, one of the few newspapers who are still saying things as they are (and for that they get sued): http://www.repubblica.it/2009/07/sezioni/economia/eni-gas/turchia-berlusconi/turchia-berlusconi.html
A source in the Turkish government reveals what happened behind the scenes at the signing of the South Stream agreement
"The Premier (Me: read the Psychodwarf) called: he wanted to participate in the ceremony. Mr Putin and Mr Erdogan smiled” (Me: read they rolled on the floor laughing)
Berlusconi "hero" of the pipeline?
Turkey’s “surprise”
ISTANBUL – When the Italian president of the council (Me: that’s what we call the head of the government in Italy) Silvio Berlusconi defined the agreement signed yesterday between Turkey and Russia concerning the South Stream pipeline as a “great success of Italian diplomacy”, the government of Ankara was quite surprised. It was revealed by a source in Mr Erdogan’s government to Reuters, who today report on Mr Berlusconi’s “bizarre” intrusion into the signing ceremony.
The agreement between Moscow and Ankara to let the Russian pipeline pass under the Turkish waters in the Black Sea through to Europe had “already been achieved – the source tells Reuters - when the Turkish government received an unexpected last-minute request by Mr Berlusconi, who wanted to participate in the signing ceremony” between Russian premier Mr Vladimir Putin and Turkish premier Mr Tayyip Erdogan, in Ankara. The source adds that a “certain surprise” ensued when they realised that Mr Berlusconi wanted to claim the achieving of the agreement as his own personal success.
“It’s the kind of thing that might cause a diplomatic issue – the Turkish source says – but because it was Mr Berlusconi , it only made the two leader’s smile (Me: read “Oh, it’s only that Italian buffoon, don’t mind him”)”. Reuters also quotes the Italian government’s website reporting a statement according to which the South Stream project is “a personal success of the Italian prime minister”. According to the Turkish, it’s a real “exaggeration”.
(7th August 2009)
Good grief… wait until they get a whiff of that here...
Here’s the translation of Silvio Berlusconi’s latest feat. I am seriously wondering how it is possible that he’s not yet been hit by God’s lightning…
Here’s the original article from La Repubblica, one of the few newspapers who are still saying things as they are (and for that they get sued): http://www.repubblica.it/2009/07/sezioni/economia/eni-gas/turchia-berlusconi/turchia-berlusconi.html
A source in the Turkish government reveals what happened behind the scenes at the signing of the South Stream agreement
"The Premier (Me: read the Psychodwarf) called: he wanted to participate in the ceremony. Mr Putin and Mr Erdogan smiled” (Me: read they rolled on the floor laughing)
Berlusconi "hero" of the pipeline?
Turkey’s “surprise”
ISTANBUL – When the Italian president of the council (Me: that’s what we call the head of the government in Italy) Silvio Berlusconi defined the agreement signed yesterday between Turkey and Russia concerning the South Stream pipeline as a “great success of Italian diplomacy”, the government of Ankara was quite surprised. It was revealed by a source in Mr Erdogan’s government to Reuters, who today report on Mr Berlusconi’s “bizarre” intrusion into the signing ceremony.
The agreement between Moscow and Ankara to let the Russian pipeline pass under the Turkish waters in the Black Sea through to Europe had “already been achieved – the source tells Reuters - when the Turkish government received an unexpected last-minute request by Mr Berlusconi, who wanted to participate in the signing ceremony” between Russian premier Mr Vladimir Putin and Turkish premier Mr Tayyip Erdogan, in Ankara. The source adds that a “certain surprise” ensued when they realised that Mr Berlusconi wanted to claim the achieving of the agreement as his own personal success.
“It’s the kind of thing that might cause a diplomatic issue – the Turkish source says – but because it was Mr Berlusconi , it only made the two leader’s smile (Me: read “Oh, it’s only that Italian buffoon, don’t mind him”)”. Reuters also quotes the Italian government’s website reporting a statement according to which the South Stream project is “a personal success of the Italian prime minister”. According to the Turkish, it’s a real “exaggeration”.
(7th August 2009)
Good grief… wait until they get a whiff of that here...
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