::25.1.04::
SHHHH...
Taí...essa daí ainda não decidi, qual a minha versão favorita. Provavelmente Billie Holiday.
Speak Low
Ogden Nash/ Kurt Weill
Speak low when you speak, love
Our summer day withers away too soon, too soon
Speak low when you
speak, love
Our moment is swift, like ships adrift, we're swept apart, too soon
Speak low, darling,
speak low
Love is a spark, lost in the dark too soon, too soon
I feel wherever I go that tomorrow is
near, tomorrow is here and always too soon
Time is so old and love so brief
Love is pure gold and time
a thief
We're late, darling, we're late
The curtain descends, ev'rything ends too soon, too soon
I
wait, darling, I wait
Will you speak low to me, speak love to me and soon
:: Marcia Furriel 11:08 p.m.
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"...[R]eturning to the Red Drum for sets, to hear Bird, whom I saw distinctly digging Mardou several times also myself directly into my eye looking to search if I was really the great writer I thought myself to be as if he knew my thoughts and ambitions or remembered me from other night clubs and other coasts, other Chicagos--not a challenging look but the king and founder of the bop generation at least the sound of it in digging his audience digging his eyes, the secret eyes him-watching, as he just pursed his lips and let great lungs and immortal fingers work, his eyes separate and interested and humane, the kindest jazz musician there could be while being and therefore naturally the greatest--watching Mardou and me in the infancy of our love and probably wondering why, or knowing it wouldn't last, or seeing who it was would be hurt, as now, obviously, but not quite yet, it was Mardou whose eyes were shining in my direction, though I could not have known and now do not definitely know--except the one fact, on the way home, the session over the beer in the Mask drunk we went home on the Third Street bus sadly through night and throb knock neons and when I suddenly leaned over her to shout something further (in her secret self as later confessed) her heart leapt to smell the "sweetness of my breath" (quote) and suddenly she almost loved me--"
DO LIVRO
The Subterraneans
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