sreda, 11. november 2009


Je že res november, ampak ni tako hudo, kot pravita Aleksander Blok in Franci Lakovič v pesmicah, ki sem ju zaradi črnogledosti raje umaknila iz ilustracij. Jaz se imam odlično in nič ne more pokvariti moje dobre volje, otroci pa naj se kar lepo izobrazijo in skozi liriko spoznajo z minevanjem življenja (po domače: z izčrpanostjo in brezvoljnostjo, ki jo prinašajo mraz, kratki dnevi in zoprna kotlinska vlaga). Če pa komu ilustracija slučajno ni všeč, prjatli, risala sem jo avgusta v največji vročini!

2 komentarja:

  1. in pol zajc volku zapoje/by cocorosie
    (dober plan je to, da ti pišeš, mi pa vraćamo s pesmicami):


    Now that I'm alone I feel the lonely brokenness
    Of all the wicked avenues I've ever sold my love on
    All these moments of meekness and trembling subsided
    I'm the outright abandon of this orphan child
    Home is on the highway living on soft bread and solace
    I guess I'm waiting for nightfall or a solar eclipse
    And to wake up half empty
    Only to be filled again with mourning
    He's my evil shadow dove
    My black Palamito
    Can't break him like a diamond skull
    I can't seem to do so
    Can't just rob him out like the
    Mob used to do so
    Like memories of porno and tearstains
    And tobacco O it's a mini disastro
    Bigger than the ice age don't know if baby dinosaurs
    Maybe could live through it, like Indians and butterflies
    What's crushed is my spirit, Oh I fear it is too fragile
    Like fall leaves burn like paper

    I always knew I would spend a lot of time alone
    No one would understand me
    Maybe I should go and live amongst the animals
    Spend all my time amongst the animals
    And on the tracks I would go they lead to the sea
    To be amongst the animals

    Oh I'm just afall leaf something simple and shy lie that
    That's how my heart lies down beside the sidewalk
    Like an empty restaurant filled with perfume and balloons
    I sit and entertain the bisarro ghosts of my soul
    His name still lingers maybe lactates on my tongue
    Perhaps I'm just teething for a foreign fallen destiny
    Miserable but mine, I look like his mother
    Or Sophia Loren in an old fashioned movie
    Slow motion I cling to my child desperate for love
    One day soon my brother died, made me remember all the
    Subordinate feelings I cast aside
    Maybe I had lied when I said I was ok
    Just getting along like a little song that stops to sing and say
    "Wild willow, windy winter won't you blow through me
    My whole eternity"

  2. sem bila prijetno presenečena, ko sem zagledala ilustracijo ob prebiranju Cicibana :)