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L'amour est un oiseau rebelle ... Carmen!

Ciao!
La prossima opera che andrò a vedere live sarà la Carmen di Bizet. Opera in four acts, composed by Bizet's Carmen was between 1873 and 1874 to a libretto by H. Meilhac and L. Havély, which were inspired by the homonymous novel by Prosper Mérimée. The first was staged at the Opéra-Comique, Paris March 3, 1875. It was a fiasco because it was deemed too harsh and willing ... Only in later years this beautiful masterpiece will be appreciated as it deserves.
Among other things, Carmen is the work of Nietzsche's favorite!
The plot in brief is as follows: Act 1


Seville, 1820. While the chief of Dragoons Moralès observes the passers-by in the square outside the tobacco industry, the young Micaela arrives from the countryside in search of sergeant Don José. Learned that José will arrive shortly thereafter, the young leaves. The hour of the break, the square comes alive at the appearance of working manufacturing, among the many men present to wait only José, who arrived in the meantime, it is not interesting to them, is in love with Micaela's mother and promised to marry her . All await the arrival of the beautiful Carmen and when they finally make a circle around the cigar appears. Noticing that ignores José, Carmen decides to provoke him and without saying a word, throws him a flower. José remains troubled and, almost without realizing it, hides the flower under his coat. Back in the square, Micaela Delivery José a letter from the mother and takes his leave by him with a chaste kiss. Suddenly, the manufacture, we hear cries of: Carmen came to blows with a fellow wound to the face and broke it. Zuniga, a lieutenant of the guards, and ordered the arrest of Jose escort her to jail. Alone with the sergeant, Carmen began his work of seduction: love in exchange for promises of freedom. José, deceived now, helps to escape.


Act 2 It's been a month. In the tavern Lilas Pastia Carmen dances with other Gypsy and awaits the return of Don José, detained because guilty of letting her escape. Hailed by the enthusiasm of the patrons, enters the tavern the bullfighter Escamillo, who came a drink with friends. Escamillo in Carmen turns amorous words, but the thought of the gypsy's all for Jose, so that the woman refuses to unirisi group of friends who plan a new blow to smugglers. José finally arrives, out of prison, but already the distant echoes of the trumpet and the retired brigadier who is preparing to return to barracks. Carmen, annoyed, he covered him with ridicule. A worthless declarations of love and Jose Zuniga only the sudden arrival of interrupts their quarrel. A fight breaks out, quelled by the intervention of smugglers, and at that point José is forced to join them deserting the army. In Act 3


prey to guilt and tired of the harsh life he is forced to drive through the mountains, Don José realizes that the relationship with Carmen is deteriorating. The gypsy, in turn, ask the card on your future and get an answer terrible death :-( Meanwhile Micaela reached the camp of the smugglers to plead José to go to the bedside of his dying mother. The man accepts below, but before leaving Carmen threat, which is insanely jealous.

Act 4
Facing the arena the crowd praising Escamillo. Nestled amid the general confusion, there is Don José, blinded by jealousy. The sergeant Carmen decides to face, alone in the square Escamillo to wait while all are witnessing the corrida. José begs the threat, but she rejects him and, as a sign of contempt, throws him in the face of the ring was a gift from him. Furious and desperate, the José stabs to death. The guards took him away while the public arena celebrates the victory of Escamillo.

The air of this work is the most famous Habanera (which by the way a few years ago was crippled to advertise a product for the bathroom ... Sacrilege igenizzare !!!). I worship you and comfort ...

Carmen-Habanera L'amour est un oiseau

rebelle Que nul peut apprivoiser it,
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on appeal
If he should refuse. Nothing will
threat or prayer
One speaks, the other is silent,
And the other that I prefer
He said nothing but I like it.

love, love ...

Love is a Bohemian child,
It never known any law,
If you do not love me I love you,
If I love you best beware.

The love you thought to surprise
Bat wing and flew away,
Love is far away, you can expect,
You do not wait and it is there.
All around you, quickly, quickly,
It comes and goes, and then returns,
You believe holding it, the t'évite, Tu crois
the éviter, te tient.

L'amour, l'amour ... L'amour est

enfant de Bohème, The n'a jamais jamais connu
de loi, Si tu
it m'aimes pas je t'aime, Si je t'aime prends
garde à toi!

Kitchen Island Blueprints

Without words! Spring

Grandma "Yesterday while I was sleeping I have come to mind ... the Sophists" I
"WTF ?!?!"
Grandma "Yes .. the philosophers who were all reasoning and THEN come to a conclusion!" I
"Aaaah ..."

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The Burial of the Dead April is the


cruelest month, breeding Lilacs out
of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire
, stirring Dull roots with spring rain
. Winter kept us warm
, covering Earth in forgetful snow
, feeding A little life with dried
tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain, we stopped in the colonnade And went on
in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
am no Russian, coming 'from Lithuania, real German.
And when we were children, staying at the arch-duke's, My cousin's
, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened
. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in winter.


What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
Frisch weht der Wind
Der heimat zu
Mein Irisch kind,
Wo weilest du?
"You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;"
"They called me the hyacinth girl."
Yet when we came back, late, from the hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Öd' und leer das Meer.


Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Has a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor.
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something that he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself;
One must be so careful these days.


Unreal City
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet,
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying, "Stetson!
You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?
Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?
Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,
Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
You! hypocrite lecteur!--mon semblable! - mon frère! "
(TS Eliot, The Wasteland)