Pages

Sunday, December 12, 2021

 


"Ribbons in May" by Sagawa Chika

Ocean of Memory

Hair disheveled, chest splayed out,
a madwoman streels.

A crowd of white words crumbles
upon the twilight ocean.

A torn accordion,

a white horse and a black horse
storm over it, frothing.

- Sagawa Chika, Japanese poet

 



Friday, October 29, 2021


 If It Be Your Will by Leonard Cohen

 

 IF IT BE YOUR WILL

If it be your will, that I speak no more
And my voice be still, as it was before
I will speak no more, I shall abide until
I am spoken for, if it be your will
 
If it be your will, that a voice be true
From this broken hill, I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will, to let me sing
 
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will, to let me sing
 
If it be your will, if there is a choice
Let the rivers fill, let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in Hell
If it be your will, to make us well
 
And draw us near and bind us tight
All your children here, in their rags of light
In our rags of light, all dressed to kill
And end this night, if it be your will
If it be your will
Marie Bortolotto, Abstract Ink, 2021

 

Marie Bortolotto 2021

A tribute to J. B. Murray

Brother Love's Travelling Show by Neil Diamond


Marie Bortolotto 2021

 


 I AM, I SAID... by Neil Diamond


LET THIS DARKNESS BE A BELL TOWER

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.

 

Saturday, October 2, 2021

Tuesday, September 21, 2021

Sunday, September 19, 2021


In search of Thee, I found myself.

~ Bengal Boatman's Song
 
 
The Boatman's Song - Traditional Bengali Folk Song

 

Wednesday, August 25, 2021

Marie Bortolotto 2021


 El Agua Y Los Arabes (Water & Arabs) - Eduardo Pagiagua

Tuesday, August 24, 2021

Poemas De La Alhambra (Ibn Zamrak) 1333 - 1393 AD
- Eduardo Paniagua, El Arabi Serghini

Flamenco Roots - Munir Bashir

 

READING

My eye frees what the page imprisons:
the white the white and the black the black.

~ Ibn ‘Ammar (died 1086 AD) (Silves)

Monday, August 23, 2021

"All Is Full of Love" - Music by Bjork


URBAN JUNGLE

Wild-mouthed, a dog whines in swelling octaves.

A garbage truck crouches over its prey.

Squabbling children, a sullen breeze hovers,

then swoops. Round and round, 

a red and white bicycle wheel whirls.

All is full of love.

~ Marie Bortolotto © 2021

Sunday, August 22, 2021


Marie Bortolotto Artist 2021

 

 

 
 Magic Songs - R. Murray Schafer, Canadian Composer
1933 - 2021


Seventeen Haiku - R. Murray Schafer, Canadian Composer
1933 - 2021

Wednesday, August 18, 2021


 ...let this music move your soul - Yaron Pe'er

...intoxicating Afghani Rubab music...

 
  Marie Bortolotto 2021

 
 

 Classical Ghazal Music...poetry of the heart...


...enchanting bhajans, devotional songs...


DREAMING IN THE PARK

Ruffled feathers, a raucous jury of crows deliberate.

A sacrificial cabbage, purples.

A children's storybook takes flight. 

The intoxicating scent of fresh cut grass,

a red tractor swirls upon a green ocean dream.

- Marie Bortolotto ©  2021

Monday, August 16, 2021


LISTEN: A Portal into the deep + eternal longing of the heart...

Soundscapes: Music of the desert by Zakir Hussain

Sunday, August 15, 2021


4 Centuries of Spanish and Sephardic Songs

...sweetened liquid sounds for the poetic heart



Marie Bortolotto 2021

 

 

 Marie Bortolotto 2021

Marie Bortolotto 2021  





 


Marie Bortolotto 2021

 

 

SPRINGTIME

Ah, what flashing and fragrance!

Ah, how the meadows laugh!

Ah, what aubades are heard!

FOLK BALAD


In my morning half-asleep, I am put out of sorts by a devilish squalling of little children. Finally, unable to sleep anymore, I jump out of bed in despair. Then, when I gaze at the countryside from my open window, I realize that the noisemakers were the birds.

I go out to the vegetable garden and I sing my thanks to the God of the blue day. A free concert of beaks, fresh and endless! Capriciously the swallow utters her ripply twittering in the well; the black bird whistles on the fallen orange, the fiery oriole chatters from one ilex to another; the greenfinch gives its long, frequent laughs at the top of the eucalyptus; and on the big pine the sparrows argue furiously.

What a morning! The sun poses its silver-and-gold cheerfulness on the earth; butterflies of a hundred colors play everywhere, among the flowers, through the house (now inside, now out), on the fountain. All over, the countryside opens up into crackings and creakings, into a boiling of healthy new life.

It's as if we were inside a huge honeycomb of light which was also the interior of and immense, flaming-hot rose.

Juan Ramon Jimenez, (from Platero y yo)

Saturday, July 3, 2021


A Centre
 
You must hold your quiet center,
where you do what only you can do.
If others call you a maniac or a fool,
just let them wag their tongues. 
If some praise your perseverance, 
don't feel too happy about it—
only solitude is a lasting friend.

You must hold your distant center.
Don't move even if earth and heaven quake. 
If others think you are insignificant,
that's because you haven't held on long enough.
As long as you stay put year after year,
eventually you will find a world
beginning to revolve around you. 

Ha Jin, Chinese-American Poet, Novelist



Marie Bortolotto 2021  

 


Marie Bortolotto 2021