lunes, 14 de marzo de 2016

THE PRICE OF A BOWL OF SWEET WINE

THE PRICE OF A BOWL OF SWEET WINE

Sandra Dermark
14th of March, 2016

Left
Right 
Left
Right
Left 
Right
Left 
Right
Left
Right
Company
Halt
Attention
In war, the strong make slaves of the weak...
(warfare as oppressive)
There is war in the mountains, and the kings of each side are calling to death. They are marching to battle. They have beaten upon their shields with their spears, and have put on their helmets of iron...
(warfare as deathbringing)
was tossing feverishly on his bed...
(infection)
had his head buried in his hands...
(exhaustion)
another body was lying, that of a young man of marvellous and foreign beauty, whose breast was stabbed with many red wounds...
(death penalty)
his face was strangely pale, and as he fell the blood gushed from his ears and nostrils. He quivered for a little, and then he was still...
(decompression)
writhed like a trampled snake, and a red foam bubbled from his lips...
(throat injury)
Livet är en blomma
vackert
och kort
och sârbart
(c'est la vie)
one whose armour was inlaid with gilt flowers, came up and made inquiry of the soldiers. And they said to him... "Nay," he cried, laughing...
(the officer class is part of the state apparatus)
Libera me 
Libera me
Libérame
Libérame
...for the price of a bowl of sweet wine.
...
The loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honour is to wear a satin gown at the next Court-ball.
From the palace, one heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. "How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!"
"I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it..."

(romance, eschewing gender roles)
The solemn minuet, performed by the dancing boys from the church of Nuestra Señora del Pilar, in Zaragoza, was charming. This wonderful ceremony takes place every year at Maytime in front of the high altar of the Virgin, and in her honour. 'Our Lady's Dance,' as it was called, certainly was a beautiful sight. The boys wore old-fashioned court dresses of white velvet, and their curious three-cornered hats were fringed with silver and surmounted with huge plumes of ostrich feathers, the dazzling whiteness of their costumes, as they moved about in the sunlight, being still more accentuated by their swarthy faces and long black hair. Everybody was fascinated by the grave dignity with which they moved through the intricate figures of the dance, and by the elaborate grace of their slow gestures, and stately bows, and when they had finished their performance and doffed their great plumed hats... 
(elegance, reconnecting with spirituality)
 the guards bowed down and made obeisance... 
...and the high officers ran forth to meet... and they abased themselves, and said...
Then he, whose armour was inlaid with gilt flowers, held up a shield, and cried...
...and the high officers knelt down and said...
(officers obey the State, the State can harm, but also do good)
Sine ira
Sine ira
Sine ira
Sine ira
Sine ira vivere volo
Sine ira vivere volo 
Sine ira vivere volo...

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