Idea Transcript
More Next Blog»
Create Blog Sign In
Como la cigarra
Inicio / Home Back door Contents / Índice Authors where we daily publish new photos about our travels around the world:
auf deutsch in italiano magyarul
WHY RÍ O WA NG ?
Poemas del río Wang
SEARCH IN THE BL OG
Buscar
Our appeal to our Readers to send us the songs telling about their history has been generously answered by Julia sharing
TRA V E L WI TH US !
with us her experiences of their change of regime in the early ’80s:
Come with us to… Me di cuenta, al leer esta entrada de Poemas del Río Wang, de que no podía en modo alguno hacer un aporte realmente abarcador de lo que fue la música de protesta o de transición en Argentina. Hay tanto que no conozco o no tengo presente, o que conozco de nombre, pero para ser sinceros no llegó a tocarme directamente. Sin embargo pensando con sinceridad y sin pretender ser en lo más mínimo exhaustiva, hay canciones que se me empezaron a agolpar en la cabeza al considerar el asunto. No sé si tienen todas la misma calidad, sé que no representan un misma época. Algunas las recuerdo de cuando yo tenía 12 años y empezaba a hablarse de democracia nuevamente en Argentina, otras vienen heredadas de mis padres. Aquí hay un compilado muy aleatorio (aclaro que creo que las últimas son las de valor más universal).
S O ME THRE A DS
Atlantis Bestiary Bohemia+Prague Books, exhibitions, music, film Brave old world Caucasus Cemeteries Crimea Get to know the Soviet Union Images of the East Lightwriting Lwów/Lemberg Mallorca Message on the wall The Museum of Propaganda Odessa Paper Museum Persian letters The Jewish heritage
Lo primero que pensé –al darme cuenta de que lo mejor era hablar de uno mismo, porque hay grandes nombres de Argentina que no podrían faltar en un recorrido completo, pero que no formaron parte de mi verdadera historia– fue en los años 1982 y 1983. En la Argentina, vivíamos desde 1976 gobernados por una dictadura militar (autodenominada “Proceso de Reorganización Nacional”) que es tristemente célebre por su brutal represión que dejó como saldo miles y miles de muertos. El terrorismo de estado transitaba por cauces subterráneos y su dimensión no fue realmente reconocida por todos en su completa magnitud hasta que volvió la democracia. Se vivía, entonces, un clima de violencia silenciada, de censura y represión ya casi naturalizadas. En 1982, la Junta Militar nos sumerge en una gran locura: una guerra contra Gran Bretaña por las Islas Malvinas. Si bien creo que todos los argentinos defendemos nuestra soberanía sobre estas islas, el letal proyecto de atacar a los ingleses y mandar una gran cantidad de soldados de 18 años (chicos que estaban haciendo su servicio militar), mal equipados y poco protegidos, fue desgarrador. Lamentablemente muchos argentinos, imbuidos de esa estupidez mental que produce el chauvinismo, aplaudieron al presidente de facto en el poder en ese momento, Comandante Leopoldo F. Galtieri, al proclamar la guerra. La esperable derrota contra los ingleses fue uno de los detonantes más importantes para que el “Proceso” tuviera que dejar el poder y llamara a elecciones en 1983. El relato de esta guerra viene a cuento aquí, porque fue a causa del enfrentamiento con Gran Bretaña que, en ese año de 1982, la dictadura militar prohibió a las radios pasar música en inglés y se produjo un boom (¡qué rebeldía usar un vocablo del “enemigo”) del llamado “Rock Nacional”. Luego, en 1983, todos estábamos enfervorizados por la inminente vuelta de la democracia. Yo tenía entre 11 y 12 años (y para datos exóticos vivía en Ushuaia, la ciudad más austral del mundo) y recuerdo mi fascinación al escuchar las canciones del gran músico del rock argentino, Charly García, como Inconsciente colectivo.
MÚS ICA / MUS IC
Ya Mariam. Jordi Savall: Orient-Occident II. Hommage à la Syrie MÁ S / MO RE
ARCHIVOS
2017 (46) 2016 (94) 2015 (180) 2014 (221) 2013 (187) 2012 (300) 2011 (359) 2010 (262) 2009 (139) Charly García - Inconsciente colectivo - Del álbum Yendo de la cama al living, 1982
t 2008 (124) diciembre (12)
También recuerdo el decir sin decir, pero diciendo bastante, otra canción posterior Los dinosaurios (aludiendo a los militares que se estaban yendo del poder y con una clara referencia a los “desaparecidos”, personas arrestadas, torturadas y, en la mayoría de los casos, asesinadas por el terrorismo de estado que se desplegó durante la dictadura de 1976-1983).
noviembre (9) octubre (16) septiembre (9) agosto (13) julio (13) t junio (11) Como la cigarra Soñando viejas luces de Hungría History sung Dogs of God Who does not speak Arabic Confines del Río Wang Discreción Discretion I’ll come when you call me
Charly García - Los dinosaurios - Del álbum Clics modernos, 1983
Meshiakh ben Dovid zitst oybn on
Pero sin duda una canción que reúne a argentinos de todos los ámbitos es Sólo le pido a Dios de León Gieco que fue escrita en 1978, pero se convirtió en un himno pacifista durante la guerra de Malvinas (1982) y luego fue muy simbólica en toda la transición hacia la democracia.
Giro d’Italia mayo (10) abril (10) marzo (7) febrero (6) enero (8) 2007 (29)
The official seal must cover the part of the photo... - December 13, 2017 - Anonymous thank you.. on my one visit to Budapest (link fr... - December 6, 2017 - Doug K Nowhere seems to be just the right place for shoot... - November 20, 2017 - Tororo
León Gieco - Sólo le pido a Dios - Del álbum IV LP, 1978 - Cantada en el link por Mercedes Sosa
Al llegar a Mercedes Sosa que canta tan lindo esa canción de León Gieco, recordé las de María Elena Walsh que me hacía escuchar mi madre. Esta genial y multifacética autora es una institución de la literatura y canción infantil en nuestro país, pero tiene además canciones “para grandes”, entre ellas Serenata para la tierra de uno, una canción preciosa que me emociona cada vez que la escucho (transmisión materna, sin duda). María Elena Walsh sufrió la cerrazón ideológica de los gobiernos de Juan Domingo Perón (de 1946 a 1955 y de 1973 a 1976 –seguido después de su muerte en 1974 por su mujer, vicepresidente electa) y también la de las distintas dictaduras militares que los sucedieron (salvo pequeñas bocanadas de democracia en la década del 60). Así que esta canción de amor al propio país y de compromiso con él más allá de todas las dificultades, desagrados y contradicciones muestra el sentir preciso de muchos argentinos. Cuesta reconocer, sin embargo, que sólo nosotros somos los culpables de lo que vivimos (no tuvimos invasiones, ataques externos, ni catástrofes naturales que puedan justificar los descalabros de nuestra historia). De todas formas, la letra de la canción es muy sutil, no hay un tono de denuncia, sólo se sobreentienden las dificultades al retratar los tironeos del alma al tener que justificar el querer vivir “en la tierra de uno”.
Yes, I also thought about it, and the Chinese text... - November 22, 2017 - Studiolum Could it be that he fought in the Sino-Vietnamese ... - November 22, 2017 - Languagehat
Wowo That is Amazing Place.. - October 3, 2017 - Ubaid Chi ha scritto questo articolo evidentemente non s... - February 12, 2017 - Kleò Interessante come, ancora una volta, gli ungheresi... - January 27, 2017 - Loredana Non scegliere a caso... se cerchi bene c è il prod... - October 21, 2016 - Corrado Coluccia Non scegliere a caso... se cerchi bene c è il prod... - September 27, 2016 - Rino Caiulo
vielen Dank, es freut mich! - January 21, 2016 - Studiolum
Serenata para la tierra de uno de María Elena Walsh cantada también por Mercedes Sosa Otra canción suya, muy emblemática para nosotros, es Como la cigarra. Fue compuesta en épocas de transición de un gobierno militar de los 60 al último de Perón, que luego, en 1976, desembocaría en el “Proceso” militar. Lo curioso es que la misma autora ha dicho que cuando ella cantó en público esta canción hacia 1975 a nadie le llamaba mucho la atención ni parecía entenderla y, sin embargo, años después se convertiría en un himno del renacimiento de la democracia en 1983. Se ve que en ese momento muchos argentinos nos dimos cuenta de que también habíamos sido y éramos como la cigarra.
toll! - January 20, 2016 - pilade Faszinierende Musik und Lebensgeschichte - July 9, 2014 - Ferdinand Thank you for clearing that up! - August 1, 2013 - minotaurus Thank you for the comment and for your good words!... - July 15, 2013 - Studiolum
Mostani, 2017. decemberi jófogás a Pizzeria Il Car... - December 13, 2017 - Tamas DEAK Szép napot kívánok Mindenkinek. A témához kapcsoló... - December 8, 2017 - Anonymous Hát hiszen Navigare necesse est, de olyan szépen é... - December 7, 2017 - Zsuzsi
Como la cigarra – María Elena Walsh, 1972 - En este link cantada Mercedes Sosa (a mediados de los '70 supongo) Aquí van las letras.
Szép ! És persze köszönöm. Jó szelet,csendes vize... - December 6, 2017 - Anonymous
Inconsciente colectivo
Sólo le pido a Dios
Charly García
León Gieco
Nace una flor, todos los días sale el sol
Sólo le pido a Dios
de vez en cuando escuchas aquella voz.
que el dolor no me sea indiferente,
Como de pan, gustosa de cantar,
que la reseca muerte no me encuentre
en los aleros de mi mente con las chicharras.
vacío y solo sin haber hecho lo suficiente.
Baján Korányiék mellett Paschka is tarolt. Eredeti... - November 30, 2017 - Tamas DEAK
Pero a la vez existe un transformador que te consume lo mejor que tenés
Sólo le pido a Dios
te tira atrás, te pide más y más
que lo injusto no me sea indiferente,
y llega un punto en que no querés.
que no me abofeteen la otra mejilla
MÁ S DE NO S O TRO S MO RE FRO M US
Studiolum
después que una garra me arañó esta suerte.
Mesa revuelta
Mamá la libertad, siempre la llevarás
– Casa de la poesía china
dentro del corazón
Sólo le pido a Dios
te pueden corromper
que la guerra no me sea indiferente,
A Garden Diary
te puedes olvidar
es un monstruo grande y pisa fuerte
e-mail
pero ella siempre está
toda la pobre inocencia de la gente.
Mamá la libertad, siempre la llevarás ÍNDICE / CONTENTS
dentro del corazón
Sólo le pido a Dios
te pueden corromper
que el engaño no me sea indiferente
te puedes olvidar
si un traidor puede más que unos cuantos,
pero ella siempre está
que esos cuantos no lo olviden fácilmente.
Ayer soñé con los hambrientos, los locos,
Sólo le pido a Dios
los que se fueron, los que están en prisión
que el futuro no me sea indiferente,
hoy desperté cantando esta canción
desahuciado está el que tiene que marchar
que ya fue escrita hace tiempo atrás.
a vivir a una cultura diferente
Es necesario cantar de nuevo, Como la cigarra
una vez más.
María Elena Walsh Los Dinosaurios Charly García
Tantas veces me mataron, tantas veces me morí,
Los amigos del barrio pueden desaparecer
sin embargo estoy aquí
Los cantores de radio pueden desaparecer
resucitando.
Los que están en los diarios pueden desaparecer
Gracias doy a la desgracia
La persona que amas puede desaparecer.
y a la mano con puñal,
Los que están en el aire pueden desaparecer en el aire
porque me mató tan mal,
Los que están en la calle pueden desaparecer en la calle.
y seguí cantando.
Los amigos del barrio pueden desaparecer, Pero los dinosaurios van a desaparecer.
Cantando al sol, como la cigarra,
No estoy tranquilo mi amor,
después de un año
Hoy es sábado a la noche,
bajo la tierra,
Un amigo está en cana.
igual que sobreviviente
Oh, mi amor,
que vuelve de la guerra.
Desaparece el mundo Si los pesados, mi amor, llevan
Tantas veces me borraron,
todo ese montón de equipajes en la mano
tantas desaparecí,
Oh, mi amor, yo quiero estar liviano.
a mi propio entierro fui,
Cuando el mundo tira para abajo
solo y llorando.
es mejor no estar atado a nada
Hice un nudo del pañuelo,
Imaginen a los dinosaurios en la cama
pero me olvidé después
Cuando el mundo tira para abajo
que no era la única vez
es mejor no estar atado a nada
y seguí cantando.
Imaginen a los dinosaurios en la cama Cantando al sol, Los amigos del barrio pueden desaparecer
como la cigarra,
Los cantores de radio pueden desaparecer
después de un año
Los que están en los diarios pueden desaparecer
bajo la tierra,
La persona que amas puede desaparecer.
igual que sobreviviente
Los que están en el aire pueden desaparecer en el aire
que vuelve de la guerra.
Los que están en la calle pueden desaparecer en la calle. Los amigos del barrio pueden desaparecer,
Tantas veces te mataron,
Pero los dinosaurios van a desaparecer.
tantas resucitarás cuántas noches pasarás
Serenata para la tierra de uno
desesperando.
María Elena Walsh
Y a la hora del naufragio y a la de la oscuridad
Porque me duele si me quedo
alguien te rescatará,
pero me muero si me voy,
para ir cantando.
por todo y a pesar de todo, mi amor, yo quiero vivir en vos.
Cantando al sol,
Por tu decencia de vidala
como la cigarra,
y por tu escándalo de sol,
después de un año
por tu verano con jazmines, mi amor,
bajo la tierra,
yo quiero vivir en vos.
igual que sobreviviente
Porque el idioma de infancia
que vuelve de la guerra
es un secreto entre los dos, porque le diste reparo al desarraigo de mi corazón. Por tus antiguas rebeldías y por la edad de tu dolor, por tu esperanza interminable, mi amor, yo quiero vivir en vos. Para sembrarte de guitarra para cuidarte en cada flor, y odiar a los que te lastiman, mi amor, yo quiero vivir en vos.
I N E NG L I S H • MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 2 9 / 2 0 0 8 6 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : A RG E NTI NA , CHA NG E O F RE G I ME, G A ME , G A RCÍ A ; CHA RL Y, G I E CO ; L E Ó N, HI S TO RY S UNG, MUS I C, S O S A ; ME RCE DE S, WA L S H; MA RI A E L E NA
Like Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Soñando viejas luces de Hungría
That this our world is so small, to follow on the catchword of the previous post, is attested by the fact that all the three songs randomly selected as examples of history sung link up in some way the two fines terrae of Latin culture, Spain and Hungary. I have already expounded this about the first and the third song, but about the second I only discovered the same after the publication of the post.
Dusán & Zorán Sztevanovity: Volt egy tánc (There Was a Dance) (From the CD Az élet dolgai (The Things of Life), 1991) (See its text and our comments in the previous post.)
This song, Volt egy tánc (There Was a Dance) was written by Dusán Sztevanovity on the melody of the popular Take This Waltz by Leonard Cohen
Leonard Cohen, Take This Waltz (From the CD I’m Your Man, 1988)
However, the lyrics of the original song of Cohen is a free translation of a poem by Federico García Lorca. Here you can read Cohen’s text together with the English translation of Lorca’s poem, while here a comparison of the two texts. And here below the poem in the original Spanish. Little Viennese Waltz
Pequeño vals vienés
In Vienna there are ten little girls
En Viena hay diez muchachas,
a shoulder for death to cry on
un hombro donde solloza la muerte
and a forest of dried pigeons.
y un bosque de palomas disecadas.
There is a fragment of tomorrow
Hay un fragmento de la mañana
in the museum of winter frost.
en el museo de la escarcha.
There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.
Hay un salón con mil ventanas.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this close-mouthed waltz.
Toma este vals con la boca cerrada.
Little waltz, little waltz, little waltz,
Este vals, este vals, este vals, este vals,
of itself, of death, and of brandy
de sí, de muerte y de coñac
that dips its tail in the sea.
que moja su cola en el mar.
I love you, I love you, I love you,
Te quiero, te quiero, te quiero,
with the armchair and the book of death
con la butaca y el libro muerto,
down the melancholy hallway,
por el melancólico pasillo,
in the iris's dark garret,
en el oscuro desván del lirio,
in our bed that was once the moon's bed,
en nuestra cama de la luna
and in that dance the turtle dreamed of.
y en la danza que sueña la tortuga.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this broken-waisted waltz
Toma este vals de quebrada cintura.
In Vienna there are four mirrors
En Viena hay cuatro espejos
in which your mouth and the echoes play.
donde juegan tu boca y los ecos.
There is a death for piano
Hay una muerte para piano
that paints the little boys blue.
que pinta de azul a los muchachos.
There are beggars on the roof.
Hay mendigos por los tejados,
There are fresh garlands of tears.
hay frescas guirnaldas de llanto.
Aye, ay, ay, ay!
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this waltz that dies in my arms.
Toma este vals que se muere en mis brazos.
Because I love you, I love you, my love,
Porque te quiero, te quiero, amor mío,
in the attic where children play,
en el desván donde juegan los niños,
dreaming ancient lights of Hungary
soñando viejas luces de Hungría
through the noise, the balmy afternoon,
por los rumores de la tarde tibia,
seeing sheep and irises of snow
viendo ovejas y lirios de nieve
through the dark silence of your forehead.
por el silencio oscuro de tu frente.
Ay, ay, ay ay!
¡Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this “I will always love you” waltz.
Toma este vals, este vals del «Te quiero siempre».
In Vienna I will dance with you
En Viena bailaré contigo
in a costume with a river's head.
con un disfraz que tenga cabeza de río.
See how the hyacinths line my banks!
¡Mira qué orillas tengo de jacintos!
I will leave my mouth between your legs,
Dejaré mi boca entre tus piernas,
my soul in photographs and lilies,
mi alma en fotografías y azucenas,
and in the dark wake of your footsteps,
y en las ondas oscuras de tu andar
my love, my love, I will have to leave
quiero, amor mío, amor mío, dejar,
violin and grave, the waltzing ribbons.
violín y sepulcro, las cintas del vals.
The great Flamenco singer Enrique Morente who had met Leonard Cohen in 1993 in Madrid dedicated to his songs and to Lorca’s poems the CD Omega of 1996 that has since become a veritable cult disk in Spain. On this he sings the Pequeño vals vienés with the melody of Cohen, but with the original text of Lorca in a fascinating Flamenco style.
Federico García Lorca: Pequeño vals vienés, performed by Enrique Morente
And to make the links between the two fines terrae even more intricate, Lorca himself mentions Hungary in his poem: Soñando viejas luces de Hungría – “Dreaming about the ancient lights of Hungary”. And indeed this is the very subject of the text written sixty years later by Dusán Sztevanovity on the melody of Cohen and on the memory of the lost generation of his parents. The circle closes. MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 2 6 / 2 0 0 8 0 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : CO HE N; L E O NA RD, G A RCÍ A L O RCA ; FE DE RI CO, HI S TO RY S UNG, MO RE NTE ; E NRI Q UE , MUS I C, S P A NI S H, S ZTE V A NO V I TY ZO RÁ N A ND DUS Á N
Like 6 people like this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
History sung
Recently we were listening with Wang Wei along a whole night to the songs of the Spanish Transition, comparing those years with those of the change of regimes in Eastern Europe. During that night we decided that we would post for each other some songs now and then that put into words the history as it was personally experienced, and that thus became “hymns” for a generation, as they say in Spanish. Such songs, in spite of their popularity in their own countries, are almost always unknown beyond their borders. They are never translated, and when their melody is occasionally borrowed it is always provided with a new text. Only if you take into consideration how many such songs you know and love in your own language – and hereby we ask the benevolent Reader to share with us her or his own ones – then you realize how important dimensions of the history of all the other countries remain unknown to you, even if you perhaps know the languages of some of them. At the same time it is exactly the local notoriety of these songs that makes it difficult to write about them in one’s own language. For what could I tell about them that my compatriots do not know? If it were not for the deliberate bilinguism of our blog, we would prefer to write about them only in English, so that Wang Wei – or Pei Di – would translate them only into Spanish or Hungarian, respectively. Under the circumstances, however, we cannot but keep in mind an ideal reader who is a foreigner but nevertheless reads well Hungarian or Spanish; and consequently we also expect our benevolent Reader to keep in mind that these posts have been written for such an ideal reader and to benevolently forgive us the references to things too well known to her or him. It is even difficult to label these posts in their original languages. In English most of such songs are called “ballads” and those who sing them “ballad singers.” In other languages there is no word for the genre, but yes for their authors-singers, like the Spanish and Italian “cantautores” and “cantautori”, or the Russian “бард”. In Hungarian, however, neither the genre nor its singers have a term of their own, although both of them exist since the medieval minstrels and the wandering chronicle-singers of the Turkish wars to János Bródy and Dusán Sztevanovity (the latter has just published in print his complete lyrics written since the '60s with the title Csak szöveg [Just texts]). Finally, while keeping “ballad” as our English label, in the Hungarian version of the blog we decided to adopt the label “énekelt versek” (“poems sung”) coined by the great performer Ferenc Sebő in the '80s which also indicates how much this genre has borrowed from written poetry, both from medieval minstrels and Renaissance chroniclesingers and from modern authors.
As this thread started from the songs of various changes of regimes, let us open our sounding gallery with the song of the Hungarian change of regime undergone by ourselves, the Happy times by Zorán Sztevanovity. (Those who read some Hungarian, here can find a fascinating short biography of the two brothers of Serbian origin, the singer Zorán and the poet Dušán whose father, having fought as a Serbian partisan against the Nazis, suffered several years of persecution, imprisonment and tortures in the '50s as a member of the Yugoslavian embassy of Budapest for resisting to the claims of autocracy of both Tito and Stalin. One of their most famous songs, also quoted below, bears reference to these events.)
Interestingly, the experiences of the years of change in the late '80s and early '90s, bringing with themselves the interruption of so many friendships falling on the other side of the unexpectedly and irrationally outlined new ideological borders, will be also familiar to our Spanish readers, albeit not in the perspective of twenty, but rather of eighty years. We specifically call the attention of our foreign readers to such polysemic idioms like “camp” (peace camp, pioneer camp, labour camp), or “digging a pit” (“gravediggers of capitalism” and the Hungarian proverb “who digs a pit for others will fall in it himself”), as well as to such idiosyncrasies like the unspecific great purpose or the never-falling sun of glory that will also sound familiar to those heirs of the world empire of Emperor Charles V (above which the sun never fell) who have lost it through a long series of defeats.
Dusán Sztevanovity (text) and Zorán (song): Boldog idő (Happy time) (from the CD Az élet dolgai (The things of life), 1991)
So proudly stood the camp
Olyan büszkén állt a tábor
in the very middle of the world
Pont a világ kellős közepén
and we had a tent of our own
És a miénk volt egy sátor
and her and me in it
Benne ő, és benne én
It was a tremendously bright age
Az egy roppant fényes kor volt
the Sun shone day and night
Éjjel-nappal a Nap sütött
and we discovered the great purpose:
És a nagy célt felfedeztük
she me and I her.
Engem ő, és én meg őt
It was a great life
Nagy élet volt
The song was echoing on
Az ének szólt
The heart was drumming
A szív dobolt
for that was a beautiful, happy time
Mert az volt a szép boldog idő
no wine, no money, only me and her
Se bor, se pénz, csak én meg ő
That was a beautiful, happy time
Az volt a szép boldog idő
happy time
Boldog idő
In the daytime we mostly digged pits:
Nappal főleg vermet ástunk
the beautiful future already came up to the shoulders
Már vállig ért a szép jövő
and we were always on the top
De mi mindig fölül voltunk
once me and then her
Egyszer én, máskor ő
Tell me anything, but I liked
Mondhatsz bármit, nekem tetszett
that damned past time
Ez az átkos múlt idő
because there was the tent in it
Mert a sátor ott állt benne
and her and me in the tent
És benne én, s benne ő
It was a great life
Nagy élet volt
The song was echoing on
Az ének szólt
The heart was drumming
A szív dobolt
for that was a beautiful, happy time
Mert az volt a szép boldog idő
no wine, no money, only me and her
Se bor, se pénz, csak én meg ő
That was a beautiful, happy time
Az volt a szép boldog idő
only me and her, happy time
Csak én meg ő, boldog idő
And then the camp suddenly collapsed
Aztán összedőlt a tábor
in the very middle of the peace
Pont a béke kellős közepén
and the tent buried us under itself
Maga alá gyűrt a sátor
with me and her in it
És benne ő, és benne én
And by when we finally crept out
S mire lassan előbújtunk
there was no camp, only bad weather
Tábor nincs, csak rossz idő
and we set out to seek for a new tent
Megyünk sátor után nézni
this way me and that way her
Erre én és arra ő
In front of us
Előttünk áll
there was the large horizon
A tág határ
and I already see
S én látom már
that this will be the beautiful happy time
Hogy az lesz a szép boldog idő
no problem, no money,
Se gond, se pénz
no wine, no woman
Se bor, se nő
This will be the beautiful happy time
Az lesz a szép boldog idő
no money, no woman
Se pénz, se nő
happy time
boldog idő
Two other songs serve for footnote to this one. The Volt egy tánc (There Was a Dance), written on the melody of Leonard Cohen’s “Take This Waltz” and published on the same CD – it could have not even been published earlier – sums up the history of the fifty years coming to a definitive end in 1989, through the personal history of the author’s and singer’s parents: from pre-war years, the last time when there was dance and brooch and culture in Hungary through the darkness of the fifties to the hopeless provincialism of the three decades of the so-called “Kádár era”. There’s not much to explain about this either. We call the attention of the foreign reader that the “dreadful car” is a synonyme of the idiom “fekete autó” (“black car”, e.g. “the black car came for him” = ‘he was arrested by the secret police’) that in those years put deep roots in colloquial Hungarian.
Dusán & Zorán Sztevanovity: Volt egy tánc (There Was a Dance) (From the CD Az élet dolgai (The Things of Life), 1991)
A show-white ship was sailing on the river
Hófehér hajó úszott a folyón
and the boy and the girl pressed close to each other
S összesimult a fiú s a lány
a colorful lampion was shining on the sky
Színes lampion fénylett az égen
like the brooch on the deep blue vest
Mint a brosstű a mélykék ruhán
And the board was filled with music,
És a fedélzet zenével megtelt
they played a slowly swinging romantic song
Szólt a ringató, lassú románc
ay, ay, ay, ay,
Aj, aj, aj, aj
there was a dance, a dance
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
as beautiful as you only see in movies
Ilyen szépet csak filmekben látsz
And the trains set off, one after the other
És a vonatok indultak sorra
and the boy was standing at the window
És a fiú az ablakban állt
and the old, hardeded soldiers in the wagon
És a vagonban nevettek rajta
were just laughing at him:
A harcedzett vén katonák
If you are a man, hide your tears
Hogyha férfi vagy, rejtsd el a könnyed
– what will you do when coming to the battlefield?
Mi lesz veled, ha a csatában jársz
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Aj, aj, aj, aj
there was a dance, a dance
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
and perhaps there will be a continuation one time
Talán egyszer még lesz folytatás
A dance, a dance, a dance, a dance
Egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc
and through the flames, death and smoke
És a lángon, a halálon, füstön át
a white ship is sailing
Úszik egy fehér hajó
And the trains came back, one after the other
És a vonatok megjöttek sorra
– some peaceful years we did merit too –
Néhány békeév nekünk is járt
and then came that dreadful car
Aztán jött az a rettegett autó
and it silently stopped in front of the house.
És a ház előtt halkan megállt
And Mom was standing at the window
És a mama az ablaknál állva
and waiting for my father for years again.
Újra évekig apámra várt
Ay, ay, ay, ay
Aj, aj, aj, aj
there was a dance, a dance
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
perhaps there will be a continuation some time
Talán egyszer még lesz folytatás
And the brooch was not enough to buy any more coal
És a brosstűből szénre már nem telt
and the third winter passed away
És a harmadik tél is lejárt
and an early morning they rang the bell three times
És egy hajnalon csöngettek hármat
and my father stood at the door
És az apám az ajtóban állt
It did not matter that we already had nothing
Azt se bántuk, hogy nem volt már semmink
the great pawnshop swallowed everything
Mindent elnyelt a nagy zálogház
ay, ay, ay, ay
Aj, aj, aj, aj
there was a dance, a dance
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
and perhaps there will be a continuation indeed
Talán mégiscsak lesz folytatás
A dance, a dance, a dance, a dance
Egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc, egy tánc
and through the prison, solitude and hope
És a börtönön, magányon, reményen át
a white ship is sailing
Úszik egy fehér hajó
But the news and cannons were speaking again
De már szóltak a hírek s az ágyuk
in fact, why should life be different?
Mondd, az életük miért lenne más
and we pressed all we had in two suitcases
És mi mindent két bőröndbe gyűrtünk
but we already did not manage to leave
De már nem ment az elindulás
Now they watch the TV in silence
Már csak csendesen nézik a tévét
where another world is shining
Ahol ragyog egy másik világ
and they don’t call anyone to account
És ők nem kérik senkin se számon
for the long series of stolen years
Az elrabolt évek sorát
Because dreams were lost for nothing
Pedig semmiért vesztek el álmok
like the clothes left in the pawnshop
Mint a zálogban hagyott ruhák
Hm, there was a dance
Hm, volt egy tánc
a dance, a dance
Volt egy tánc, volt egy tánc
and sometimes they believed there would be a continuation
S néha elhitték, lesz folytatás
And finally the same hopeless atmosphere is immortalized in another footnote song, the Vasárnap délután (Sunday Afternoon), as we have undergone it ourselves. When I look inside, I clearly see in front of me even today the stale silence and choking desperation of the empty city in a Sunday afternoon. When I tried to present this to Wang Wei as the quintessence of Eastern European existence, illustrating it precisely with the Vasárnap délután, he just laughed and cited to me the Portuguese fados speaking about the same unbearableness of Sunday. So small is this our world.
Dusán & Zorán Sztevanovity: Vasárnap délután (Sunday Afternoon) (From the CD Zorán III, 1979)
On Sunday afternoon the city dies a little bit
Vasárnap délután a város meghal egy kicsit
and the shopwindows are somehow paler
És valahogy sápadtabbak a kirakatok
On Sunday afternoon a real ice cream is a real pleasure
Vasárnap délután egy igazi fagylalt jólesik
and sometimes I feel an old fragrance
És néha érzek egy régi illatot
On Sunday afternoon, after the long and silent lunch
Vasárnap délután a csendes, hosszú ebéd után
Mom always put the nice clothes on me
A mama rám adta mindig a szép ruhát
At the door she combed my hair and she did
Az ajtóban még megfésült és nem hallgatott rám
not pay attention
Ha kértem, hadd járjak így egész héten át
to my demand to let me dress all the week like this.
na - na - na - na - Sunday afternoon
na - na - na - na - vasárnap délután,
na - na - na - na - Sunday afternoon
na - na - na - na - vasárnap délután
On Sunday afternoon the faces of the girls are a
Vasárnap délután a lányok arca kicsit szebb
little bit nicer
S a nagyfiú ígérte tízre hazajön
and the big boy promised to come home by ten
A tánciskola parkettjén a cipők fényesek
The shoes are shining on the parquet floor of the
És néhány párnak a figura összejön
dance school and a few pairs manage to perform the figure
On Sunday afternoon was it that I got to know you
Vasárnap délután volt mikor megismertelek
your brother was playing chess with my father at us
A bátyád apámmal nálunk sakkozott
we were teenagers and I talked heaps of crap to you
Kamaszok voltunk és sok hülyeséget beszéltem neked
and we tried and found how good love was
És kipróbáltuk, a szerelem jó dolog
On Sunday afternoon perhaps anger is more silent, too
Vasárnap délután talán a harag is csendesebb
and the divorced father can see his little son
S az elvált apa láthatja kisfiát
Relatives from the countryside pay visit to the newborns
A vidéki rokonok látogatják az újszülötteket
and all the flowers are bought up at the cemetery
És Farkasréten is elfogy a sok virág
of Farkasrét.
On Sunday afternoon was it that I saw you again
Vasárnap délután volt mikor viszontláttalak
and it all happened again as at one time
És újra megtörtént, ahogyan egy régi napon
You did not grew much more adult, neither I more serious
Te sem lettél felnőttebb és én sem komolyabb
and we knew beforehead how good it is to love
És előre tudtuk, szeretni jó nagyon
On Sunday afternoon my time silently passes away
Vasárnap délután az időm csendesen megy el
and sometimes I feel as if you were nearing
És néha úgy érzem, máris érkezel
on Sunday afternoon is always too close the evening
Vasárnap délután az este mindig túl közel
when I know you’ll never come again
Mikor tudom, hogy többé nem jössz el
On Sunday afternoon the city dies a little bit
Vasárnap délután a város meghal egy kicsit
and the shopwindows are somehow paler
És valahogy sápadtabbak a kirakatok
On Sunday afternoon nothing has happened since long
Vasárnap délután már régen semmi sem történik
only sometimes I feel an old fragrance
Csak néha érzek egy régi illatot
MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 2 0 / 2 0 0 8 2 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : B RA V E O L D WO RL D, CHA NG E O F RE G I ME, HI S TO RY S UNG, HUNG A RI A N, MUS I C, O L D P HO TO S, S ZTE V A NO V I TY ZO RÁ N A ND DUS Á N
Like One person likes this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Dogs of God Not all of them are dogs. But all are looking with the same openness and confidence as the dog looks at its master. In the safety of the created being and in the presence of the Master taking care of the creation. In the Mesoamerican exhibition of the Dahlem Museum of Berlin. With all its eyes the animal world
Mit allen Augen sieht die Kreatur
beholds the Open. … Free from death.
das Offene. … Frei von Tod.
Only we see death; the free animal has its demise Ihn sehen wir allein; das freie Tier perpetually behind it and before it always
hat seinen Untergang stets hinter sich
God, and when it moves, it moves into eternity,
und vor sich Gott, und wenn es geht, so gehts
the way brooks and running springs move.
in Ewigkeit, so wie die Brunnen gehen.
(Rilke, Eighth Elegy)
BL OGROL L
Tom Clark Thoughtful Buster / Poor Clarence / one more saturday night (As seen from afar) / Hardy: Three Poems Languagehat Decoding the Khipus. Science Bookstore The First Published Photo of the Wrights in Flight (1908) Mavi Boncuk Sykes Picot Agreement Map Tywkiwdbi Dandelion Utazások Fotográfiában A zaj nem is a fényképezőgépben van. A foton-zaj - 1. Bat, Bean, Beam Three days, 567 questions Dumneazu My No-Collusion Trip to Moscow Iconic Photos Morning Mist, Franklin River Días del futuro pasado Facebook el mojigato Buchi nella sabbia La più lunga estate dell'Europa 50 Watts Design for Death
- Our
Music
Az A Baj
A Journey to Ithaca µ µ: µ µ µ
A Bad Guide Dear Master Konsiderej Progresantoj Mi revenis Old Picture of the Day Bon Voyage Regnum Meghívó a Szent György Rend bécsi avatási ceremóniájára BabelStone What's new in Unicode 9.0 ? Alta mar Alta Mar Life as a tea party Felting away BibliOdyssey Viridarium Novum Margueriteclark ... Mallorca Daily Photo Blog The Annual UMSDT Madness bint battuta muselmann Klearchos’ Guide to the Galaxy µ 2013 | The Bells 2013 Perure Alfonso Basta y sobra Weimar Masked
Ethologists write that during the several thousand years passed on the side of the man, the dog became a being that is genetically dependent on man and is only able to accomplish itself in a symbiosis with him. It is not a being closed in itself as the majority of animals are, but is open to man: he is the center of its existence. It can become wild, but by this it also becomes deformed, unlike other animals, while if it lives in a real closeness to man, it is somehow able to rise above the limits of its own animal existence.
Valle Nuova Sunsets ChinesePod Wood s lot Giornale Nuovo
As a man living in a real closeness to dogs, I have been watching for several years this strange metamorphosis of them, and I can imagine on this model the relationship between man and God. As it was quoted from Saint John of the Cross by his companion Brother Eliseo (at that time living, by chance, in a Mexican Carmelitan monastery):
Generación Y Strange Maps
THANK YOU FOR S P E NDI NG TI ME WI TH US
When a very simple sister once asked him why the frogs were jumping into the water when she was nearing to the pond in the garden of the monastery, he replied that for the frogs the depth of the pond is that place, that center where they feel safe and where nobody can hurt them. Let her act the same, that is, let her avoid the creatures and submerge to the depth and in her own center who is God and let her hide in Him.
Man – again unlike the majority of animals – is not a being closed in himself, but by constitution is open to God. His “center” is not in himself, but in Him. And like the dog, he also has only two choices of either turning away from this center and thus getting deformed, or trying to get increasingly nearer to Him, and thus rising above the limits of his human existence. It is precisely John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila who describe this anthropology in the most detailed way. YOU ARE STANDING HERE
And yet, upon that warm, alert animal
Und doch ist in dem wachsam warmen Tier
is the weight and care of enormous sadness.
Gewicht und Sorge einer großen Schwermut.
For what sometimes overwhelms us always
Denn ihm auch haftet immer an, was uns
clings to it, too—a kind of memory that tells us .. oft überwältigt – die Erinnerung, that what we're now striving for was once
als sei schon einmal das, wonach man drängt,
nearer and truer and attached to us
näher gewesen, treuer und sein Anschluss
with infinite tenderness. Here all is distance,
unendlich zärtlich. Hier ist alles Abstand,
there it was breath.
und dort wars Atem.
MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 1 4 / 2 0 0 8 0 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : A ME RI CA N NA TI V E S, B E RL I N, DA HL E M, DO G S , E X HI B I TI O N, G O D
Like Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Who does not speak Arabic ...should better not speak Arabic, says the Hungarian proverb. Honestly, I cannot imagine in what circumstances our proverb-making forefathers found themselves constrained speaking precisely Arabic rather than Turkish, Tartar or Teuton and thus facing the gulf yawning between the subjective and objective reality of their linguistic competencies. Quite unrealistic. But so many unrealistic things happen daily in our lives. I would have not imagined Serbs getting in such situation either, and lo, it did happen. True, they have no proverb to defend them from such a danger. The popular group Kulin ban has played since 2005 Medieval Serbian music mixed with modern elements (“od Kulina bana do današnjih dana” – “from Kulin Ban (†1204) to our days”). On their site composed with great ethnomusicological care they also present in detail the traditional instruments of the Balkans and of the Middle East. They describe Arabic lute – oud – like this:
“Both the words oud and lute [laúd, liuto] come from Arabic al-’ud [“the tree”]...” In fact: every lute history begins with this phrase. However, the word written there with Arabic characters does not mean this. First of all because of the uncorrect form of the letters. In Arabic every letter has four different forms, depending on its position at the beginning, middle or end of the word. It isn’t magic: in our cursive script we also put a little stroke in front of “o”, for example, when it follows another letter, but omit it if it stands at the beginning of a word. The difference of the various Arabic character forms is no more important than this, and it is also dictated by the momentum of the writing hand. Nevertheless, whoever picked together these five letters from the computer’s character table knew nothing about this convention, and always chose the standalone form, like this:
This is like someone writing in cursive script, but lifting the pen after each letter, leaving a short break, and then continuing with the next letter. In Arabic this looks even more strange as the difference of the various forms is much more marked. If the composer chose the correct medial and final forms, the word would look like this:
The more important mishap is, however, that he typed the word from left to right, as Serbs write, and not from right to left as Arabs do who would read the above word as du’lā. I don’t know whether this means anything. It does not figure in the dictionary, although Google has 303 occurrences of it. Anyway, the correct right-to-left form of the word al-’ud should be this:
And as to why the name of the lute comes precisely from the word “tree”, Arabic popular etymology offers a fascinating explanation. The tree, while living, absorbes the song of all the birds singing on its branches along the years. Then the tree becomes a lute, and the lute emits the condensed song of the birds, the more profusely the longer the tree had been absorbing it. I have seen a wonderful Persian miniature illustrating this in the bazaar of Esfahan. I am sorry for having not bought it. Perhaps I would also play more beautifully on the lute if I put it in front of myself.
However, this small typo was only good to offer an occasion for the popularization of the Kulin ban. For both their site and their program is rich and beautiful, as is the music they play. Their first CD Kulin ban was published in 2006, still with much experimenting. We are looking forward to the more mature next one.
Kulin ban: Žali Zare da žalimo, 2006 (2'08")
Kulin ban: Januške Beluške, 2006 (6'12") P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 1 1 / 2 0 0 8 0 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : A RA B I C, K UL I N B A N, L UTE , MUS I C, S E RB I A N, TY P O
Like One person likes this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Confines del Río Wang Quien no ha peregrinado, ¿qué ha visto? Quien no ha visto, ¿qué ha alcanzado? Quien no ha alcanzado, ¿qué ha sabido? ¿Y qué puede llamar descanso quien no ha tenido fortuna por la mar o por la tierra? Pues, como dice Ovidio: «No merece las cosas dulces quien no ha gustado las amarguras, ni ha tenido regalado día en la patria quien no ha venido de larga ausencia a los brazos de sus amigos». (Lope de Vega, El peregrino en su patria)
Aquí dejamos tres momentos consecutivos de un viaje al pueblo de Szék, en Transilvania. Íbamos a una boda y encontramos, además, un funeral, el del abuelo de la novia, que acababa de morir. Son tres galerías de imágenes, sin más palabras. Primero, el viaje. El funeral y el entierro, nada más llegar. Y la boda, al día siguiente, con su larga fiesta hasta el amanecer. Ved un mundo que desaparece.
Nota de Pei Di: Aunque estoy seguro de que recorreréis estos tres álbumes de fotos, dejadme que destaque aquí abajo una de ellas. Son los músicos gitanos que, a solicitud expresa del difunto abuelo, tocaron durante todo su funeral y continuaron tocando, pocas horas después y casi hasta la extenuación, en la boda de su nieta. Fue el hermoso primer encuentro de Wang Wei con el absurdo mágico de esta Europa del Este.
MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 1 0 / 2 0 0 8 4 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : P HO TO , TRA NS Y L V A NI A
Like Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Discreción
Hemos encontrado una prueba irrefutable de la popularidad de las publicaciones de Studiolum: la edición húngara de junio de 2008 de GEO magazine, dedicado a La Ruta de la Seda, incluye un artículo de dos páginas sobre Aurel Stein, ilustrado con tres fotos extraídas de la página sobre este personaje (http://dunhuang.mtak.hu) que preparamos entre Studiolum y la Biblioteca de la Academia Húngara de Ciencias, exactamente de la primera y la segunda página. Lástima que este artículo no contribuirá a la bien merecida fama de nuestra página porque solo nosotros sabemos de dónde proceden las imágenes. En efecto, el autor del artículo Péter Erdély Eszkimó olvidó con todo cuidado mencionar su fuente. Y ¿cómo podemos estar seguros? Muy simple. Las dos primeras imágenes eran inéditas hasta que fueron publicadas por nosotros, mientras que la tercera, el retrato de Aurel Stein, es en realidad una foto en grises que nosotros convertimos en sepia para darle ese aire de fotografía antigua. Además, las únicas copias de las dos primeras están guardadas en la Colección Oriental de la Academia. Habría sido un bonito detalle mencionarnos, aunque solo fuera en un pie de foto con tipografía menor. P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 0 8 / 2 0 0 8 0 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : L I B RA RY , P L A G I A RI S M, S TE I N; A URE L, S TUDI O L UM
Like One person likes this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Discretion
The popularity of the publications of Studiolum is indicated by the fact that the printed Hungarian version of the June 2008 edition of the GEO magazine, dedicated to the Silk Road, also included a twopages article on Aurel Stein, illustrated with three photos taken over from the Stein page (http://dunhuang.mtak.hu) prepared by the Studiolum and the Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, right from the first and the second page, respectively. What a pity that this article will not contribute to the growth of the well-deserved popularity of our page, for only we know where these images come from. In fact, the author of the article Péter Erdélyi Eszkimó carefully forgot to indicate their source. And where do we know it from? Very simple. The first two images out of the three were published by us for the first time, while the third one, the portrait of Aurel Stein is in the reality just as black as the other two: we have converted it into this sepia tone for the sake of an old-fashioned impression. By the way, the only copies of the first two ones are preserved in the Oriental Collection of the Academy. At least this much should have been fair to be mentioned in a caption in small print. P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 0 7 / 2 0 0 8 2 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : L I B RA RY , P L A G I A RI S M, S TE I N; A URE L, S TUDI O L UM
Like Sign Up to see what your friends like.
I’ll come when you call me Whoever clicked on the link to the Klezmatics in the previous post and listened to the first song of their Grammy-awarded CD Wonder Wheel, experienced a strange fusion of several layers of time. The lyrics on the CD were written by the legendary traveling songwriter and folk musician of the '40s Woody Guthrie, but their melodies date from sixty or – indirectly – thirty years later. In fact, around the turn of the century a number of renowned American pop musicians attempted to “complete” the lyrics of Guthrie that survived without music. Among them there was, upon the request of Guthrie’s daughter, the Klezmatics as well. They, however, did not apply here their usual modern klezmer style, but had recourse to those simple, melodic, “bright” ballads of the '60s and '70s written by Guthrie’s belated disciples like Bob Dylan or Donovan. These are the melodies of our childhood, and it is a curious feeling to hear them again. And one more, final layer of time is that this CD of 2006 – also arranging several Biblical texts like Take off your shoes, the spot you’re standing is holy ground; Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away – says, although in a different way, the same as sixteen years earlier the Hassidic song on the CD Rhythm and Jews.
Guthrie wrote in 1949 this song that starts as a simple counting rhyme: the first verse beginning with “one” is augmented at every repetition with one more verse beginning with two, three, four etc., up to ten. And also the question-and-reply introducing the counting verses comes from a children’s play in which the “mother” asks her “child” whether she will come home when she will call her. The “child” answers yes, and then the “mother” tells her at what time she will call her. We only write here the last strophe of the song that contains all the ten verses of the counting rhyme.
Woody Guthrie-Klezmatics (1949/2006): Come When I Call You (4'25")
Oh, will you come when I call you? I’ll come when you call me. I’ll call you at half-past ten. Ten for the atom bomb loose again. Nine for the crippled and blind. Eight for my eight billion graves. Seven for the continents blowed up. Six for the cities all wrecked. Five’s for the warplanes that fly. Four’s for the guns of this war. Three’s for these warships at sea. Two’s for the love of me and you. One’s for the pretty little baby that’s born, born, born and gone away. The “pretty little baby” can be eventually Guthrie’s youngest child who not much earlier died in a fire. But as with the verses progressing the lyrics becomes increasingly apocalyptic, so the image of the lost child becomes also increasingly metaphoric – and the introductory question-and-answer increasingly eschatologic. It is already not the mother who asks her child whether she will come, but the child her mother, the abandoned man God: and it is also significant that not at an exact hour like in the original play, but always late, half an hour after the horror caused by himself. The title of the poem is a single cry for help: Come when I call you. Maran atha. But after every new horror we hear again and again the phrase which again and again rises above the tragedy: I’ll come when you call me. MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 0 4 / 2 0 0 8 0 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : G UTHRI E ; WO O DY, HI S TO RY S UNG, K L E ZMA TI CS , MUS I C
Like 10 people like this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Meshiakh ben Dovid zitst oybn on
This illuminated initial letter of the so-called Kaufmann Haggadah, copied in Catalonia in the 14th century represents a king raising his goblet to say a blessing: BRWK, that is Baruk Adonai, Blessed be the Lord. The king is in all probability David, for in the haggadah resuming the liturgy of Seder Night this image follows Psalm 113 of David: Praise the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord! Let the name of the Lord be praised both now and for evermore! From the risig of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised! The Lord is exalted over all the nations, his glory above the heavens. The Bohemian David Kaufmann (1852-1899) won at a competition the first professor’s chair of the College of Rabbinical Studies of Budapest founded in 1877. He soon learned perfect Hungarian too, as foreseen by the requirements of his new position, and later he left his precious collection of medieval Hebrew manuscripts to the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. We are just working on their web edition with Studiolum. We have selected this blessing initial from the most famous manuscript of the collection as the emblem of our edition. For David Kaufmann himself became identical with King David for a moment when, out of exuberant joy felt over the purchase of the most ancient – 10th-century Palestinian - manuscript of the Mishnah, he wrote his own thanksgiving poem on the inner endpaper of the manuscript with the title “Psalm of David”.
This representation of King David seen exactly in the eschatological light of Seder Night also foresees the figure of the Messiah, as he is described in this beautiful Hassidic song: A string of pearls, a golden banner
Shnirele perele, gildene fon Meshiakh ben Dovid zitst oybn on Er halt a bekher in der rekhter hant, Makht a brokhe afn gantsn land. Omeyn veomeyn, dos iz vor, Meshiakh vet kumen hayntiks yor.
The Messiah, son of David sits on high Holding a goblet in his right hand Making a blessing on the whole land. Amen and amen, this is sure: The Messiah will come this year.
Vet er kumen tsu forn, Veln zayn gute yorn. Vet er kumen tsu raytn, Veln zayn gute tsaytn. Vet er kumen tsu geyn, Veln di yidn in erets yisroyl aynshteyn.
If he comes by chariot, There will be good years. If he comes on horseback, There will be good times. If he comes on foot, The Jews will go into the Land of Israel.
Kata recounts that when the Klezmatics at the very end of the 80’s – among the first signs of the political opening of Hungary – gave a concert in Budapest, and they had been frolicking throughout all the night with such modern klezmers like
Klezmatics: Man in a Hat (3'03") (From the disk Jews with Horns)
at the very end they suddenly stopped short, and then silently started this song: The Messiah will come this year.
Klezmatics: Shnirele perele (6'11") (From the disk Rhythm & Jews)
The public of the concert – secularized Jews of the second and third generation – listened to them in a dumbfounded silence. MA G Y A RUL P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 0 2 / 2 0 0 8 1 6 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : B L E S S I NG , DA V I D, HI S TO RY S UNG, J E WI S H, K A UFMA NN; DA V I D, K L E ZMA TI CS , L I B RA RY , MA NUS CRI P T, MUS I C, S TUDI O L UM
Like 4 people like this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Giro d’Italia
Cesare Ripa, Iconologia, 1593: Giro d’Italia Source: Herneweb.com. Cycling Blog & Photos
We arrived to Urbino on the same day as the 91th run of the Giro d’Italia. We saw the last competitors rolling out of the town. It goes without saying that we have missed its best. Whoever is curious of it can read a running commentary in the blog of Ashley and Jason. They write there was a monumental festa in the town. We, as true historians of art, can only deduce the importance of the feast from the decorations.
P UB L I CA DO P O R S TUDI O L UM E N 6 / 0 1 / 2 0 0 8 3 CO ME NTA RI O S E TI Q UE TA S : B I CY CL E , I TA L I A N, URB I NO
Like 6 people like this. Sign Up to see what your friends like.
Entradas más recientes
Página principal
Entradas antiguas
Suscribirse a: Entradas (Atom)
Continue reading
through the back door!
ETIQUETAS / L ABEL S
A B O RT I O N
ADA
ALBANIAN
A L B E RTI;
N AT I VES
KALE
AN T I Q U I T Y
RA FA E L
AN AT OLI A
A N A TOM Y
AR S
BAL KAN
BEAR
B E L GI A N
B LE S S I NG
A RCHA I C
B R E TON
AR T
BULL
B URG K M A I R;
CAUCASUS C H IN ESE
CIPHER
C Z ER N O WI T Z
E L E P HA NT
FL OR E N C E
CHARLY
GE R MA N
H AF EZ
HITL E R
H OL U B ;
JÓZSEF;
A T T I LA
KAVAFIS;
KU R D I SH LIN
KIT
YU T AN G
LY CO S T HE NE S ;
LA NDI NO ;
LI ON
CO NRA D
M EM EN T O M OR I
NI G HTI NG A L E CRA FTS
P E RS E P O LI S
P A M U K ; OR H A N
MAGIC
M O UNT A I N
M A RT I N
LI
S CUL P TURE
G E O RG E
DA N
S HE E P
S I LE S I A
P A RÉ ;
M A RI A
ST AM P
SZ ÁSZ EN D R E
BERNARD
TAO
TISZA
TRAVEL
T ŘE B Í Č
TRIE S TE
WI N E
YAN N AT OU ; SAVIN A Z O RO A S T RI A NI S M
T AT
VIET N AM ESE
Y A RO S LA V L
А К В А Р ИУ М
RO DI N
YASI N I A МАЛЕЧЬ
K OŠ I C E
LUP P A
I DE NT I T Y I S LA ND
J EWISH
KAU F M AN N ;
D AVI D
KIEV
KIR C H ER ;
K RA K O W
I S LA ND
KULIN
M A R
B O NE T
Y O RK
MEDICINE
M EXI C O
M E T RO
M O NUM ENT
M Á NDO K
MA RK E T
M O RE NT E ;
E NRI Q UE
MUSIC
N E WS P A P E R
O UD
NI G HT
R A IL WA Y
S A T RA P I ;
T ULLN
T A T RY
TOU R
U Z BEK
SUMMER
T EA
V A LE NCI A
S E R B IA N S LO V E NE
S P E NCE ; J O NA T HA N
ŠVEJK
T ABR IZ
YI D D I SH
T URK M E N
V A LE RI A NO ;
Y UA N
RE Z A
P A HLA V I
RUIN
FANCYBOX QTIP OVERL IB CODE
S A I NT
S A LK A HÁ Z I
SNAKE
S O RO S ;
S T A G E CO A CH
S Y M P OS I U M
T A NB URI
CE M I L
S Y RI A
BEY
TE HRA N
T A NG
T HE A T E R
T RANSYL VANI A
VÁMBÉRY;
X E RX E S
F RA NCI S
STU D IO LU M
TUS CA NY
P I E RI O
S NA I L
S W E DI S H
S HA NG T O NG
GOOGL E ANAL YTICS
S CHUL Z; B RUNO
TY P O
Ú BED A
ÁRMIN
V E NI CE
W ALSH ; M AR I A ELEN A
WR O C Ł A W
R EC EPT I ON
S A I NT
T EA- H O R SE- R O AD
V O JV O DI NA
SPR I N G
T A LE
P O UND;
SH AJ AR IAN ; M OH AM M AD
ST R AN GER
P OP E
PSYC H OLOGY
RO S T O V
SC H OOL
T R A N S LA T ION
WORLD WAR YASI N YA
TU R KISH
M A RJ A NE
G RE E K
SALES; M EH D I AKH AVAN
A URE L
B A RB A RA
READING
PO ST ER
R OM E A UG US T I NE
S LOV A K
P O NT I C
RAIN
RE Y NO LDS ;
S A I NT
SEPH AR D I C
SU F I
P E L E V I N ; V I K TOR
P ICTURE
P R OTE C TI ON OF M ON U M E N TS
R E V OL U TI ON
S TE I N;
PAT AGON I A
OLD
PAI NT I NG
O V I DI US
P HRA S E B OOK
A N TH ON Y
S I NG A P O RE
BAN
LWÓ W
L UTE
MA LLOR C A
P A R IS
S P A N I S H C I V I L WA R
T OPOS
H R ABAL;
I SL AM
J ESUIT
KH AYYAM
ROM A NI A N
S A INT
M Á RT A
V I LLA V A ; F RA NCI S CO DE
S A R D IN IA
TA TA R
YAŞIM
ESTATE
I SF AH AN
DE L
SAI N T - PET ER SBU R G
S E B E S T Y É N;
T RUT H
WOMAN
NE W
A M B RO I S E
M I KLÓS
RUSYN
JOSÉ
US T A O Ğ LU;
WI N T ER
RIVER
SU D EK; J OSEF
T O LS T O Y
VID EO
VI EN N A
HO US I NG
R YSZ AR D
OR IEN T ALISM
SZ T EVAN OVIT Y Z OR ÁN AN D D U SÁN
U R BIN O
W AT ER
T A RNÓ W
U K R A IN IA N
S TE A MP UNK
SU BO T I C A
TA N GO
R AD N ÓT I ;
S I L K RO A D
ST AT U E
SZ EN T EN D R E
TIGER
SEAL
MUÑO Z MO L I NA ; A NTO NI O
PHOTO
P L OS S U ;
SPANISH
SOSA; M ER C ED ES
S U B C A R P A TH IA
T I BET
SEA
MALECZ
M ON K E Y
YEAR
GY P S Y
LI B RA RY LIFE O F TH IN G S
YU
A LF A RA CHE
I CONOGRA P HY
D AN I EL
RENÉ
NE W
PARCEL
S A RA M A G O ;
DE
GR A C I Á N ; B A L TA S A R
H ISTO R Y SU N G
JE RUS A L E M
LUNG U;
SEBASTIAN
O P E NS T RE E T M A P
SAI N T T ER ESA
SARAJ EVO
S CY THIA N
S HA M A NI S M
ST AL I N
DY NA S T Y
G UZ M A N
K O NG
GOD
PO EM P OLIS H PO R T U G U ESE PO STC AR D
A RT HUR
G EO R G IAN
G E O G RA P HY
F ISH
ODE S S A O KU D Z H AVA; BU L AT O LD BO O K
FE RNA NDO
RUSSIAN
RUMI
RADIO
RI M B A UD;
SAI N T SEBAST I AN S A NCT UA RY
GA R C Í A ;
P HO T I S
K Ő B Á NY A
M O NE Y
M ÜNS T E R;
ÓB U D A
PLAT O
HO NG
I O NA T O S ;
FEAST
GAR C ÍA LOR C A; F ED ER IC O
ICO N
M A GR I TTE ;
C H AR AC T ER
PAPER
EL
FL OOD
H ER OD OT U S
W EEK
DUNA K E S Z I
P E O P LE
GI OVI O; PAOLO
MAJID
F LA G
W O O DY
CULT
ER ASM U S
F A S HI O N
E GY P T
M ESSAG E O N TH E WALL
H OR A C I O
OL I V E
DE
DE RA K HS HA NI ;
E CUA DO R
HI S T O RY
F I RS T
G E NE T I CS
M A RGI NA LI A
M OL I N A ;
E NGLI S H
F A M I LY
F IR E
R EN AISSAN C E R E S TA U R A N T
RHI NO CE RO S
AEST H ET I C S
PO PUL AR G RAPHI CS P O R T R A I T P O W E R O F I M A G E S PRAG UE PROPAGANDA
R EC OM M EN D AT I ON
DA I
H O U SE
KEH LM AN N ;
LON D ON
ME RI DI A N
P E S S OA ;
P L A G I A RI S M
DRO HO B Y CZ
CO NCE RT
CUB A
L A TIN L EN I N
CS Ö MÖ R
E CO ; UMB E RTO
SEBAST I AN
D R ESS
CHINA
CHURCH
CO M I CS
C OVAR R U BI AS;
KAPU ŚC I Ń SKI ;
KLEZ M AT IC S
M AR AM U R EȘ
NO RUZ
R ABELAIS
R EZ A
P A UL
N AT ION AL
Q U O T AT I O N
S Á RA
SÁN D O R
CO LUM B I A
CHUK CH
H OLY
CHI L E
D R AGON
J A P O NI S M E
KÁNYÁDI
C H R IST M AS
C OIN
R EGI M E
B RE A D
CA T A LA N
DAVID
NI K O LA US
I NT E RV I E W
BAZ AAR
BU LGAR IAN
CAT
C AR D S
I C ELAN D
K A M K A RS
LI T H U AN I AN
M EM OR Y
BU KO VI N A
D AN U BE
G UT HRI E ;
HE I DE LB A CH;
FRA NCIS
S HA H
HI S T O RY
M AD R I D
P E R S IA N
P I L G RI MA G E
E Z RA
J APAN ESE
K LE E ;
B A E DE K E R
B L A CK P E A RL S
F RI E DRI CH
GU I D E
B A CH
B IR D
ALEXAN D ER
EN G I N E
H O L Y L AN D
KÉG L ;
NA NA I
N OM AD S
P A LE S T I NE
M I HÁ LY
A RM E NI A
A US T RO-
D AN T E
GI EC O; LEÓN
W O RK E R
OLD PHOTOS
P A I T I NG
M Y TH
HUS HA NG
CA RL
HA S I DI C
M I DDL E AG ES M I N I A T U R E M O RNI NG M O SCO W M O S Q U E M US S O LI NI
CRI S T O F O RO
Y UA N
KŐR ÖS;
F I N N O-U GR I C
G A US S ;
I NDUS T RI A L
L I S B ON MA
F I NNI S H
G UE S T
IMAGE
KAZAKH
M ANUSCRI PT M AP M EM E
K ITC H E N
KYR GYZ
E B T E HA J ;
GH OST SI GN
K A L O CS A
IT A LIA N
J U LF A
K O NS T A NT I NO S
AT H AN ASIU S
IN D IAN
OF
C H AN GE
LE O NA RD
D E
DOOR
HUNGARIAN
S HE N
CHRI S T I A N
DA NI S H
EM IGR AT ION
C O U R T YAR D
C ALLI GR APH Y
CO HE N;
C SOM A
BAR R EL O R G AN
IVAN
FR EN C H G AL I CI A GA M E
HO LY
IS TA N B U L
DA NCE
GA RDE N
M I R OS L A V
E TY M OL OGY EXH IBITIO N
FOX
G UE S S
I L L UST RAT I O N
Q UI JO TE
H A Š E K ; J A R OS L A V
HUA NG
I SR AEL
G E S S NE R; CO NRA D
G UA NG Z HO U
BOH U M IL
DO N
F IN D IN GS
C AR LOS
HA NG Z HO U
D AH LEM
E T RUS CA N
F OR GER Y
GAR D EL;
GRE E K
FILM
FOG
C OR R I D O
C R OW N
E M B LE M
E S TON I A N
FIE L D P OS T
AN T I -ALC OH OLI SM
AU ST R I AN
BU EN O S AI R ES
K RUML O V
C LOC K
DUTCH EASTER
D Ü R ER ; ALBR EC H T
C R OW
D OGS
CÓ RDO B A
C ZEC H
ESOT ER IC ISM
ČE S K Ý
BILIBIN;
AM ER I C AN
A R I S TOP H A N E S
BABITS;
M I C H AL
BRAVE OLD WORLD
BU D APEST C ABR ER A
A T T I LA
B A ROQUE
BR AT ISLAVA
ARG ENT I NA
AZER I
AJ VAZ ;
AM ERI CAN
A L GE R I A
AN N A
A N TH R OP OL OGY
B IC Y C L E
BIBLE
CIVILIAN
BAR C EL O N A
ULI S S E
A NT
DA V O O D
C H I N ESE PO ET R Y
CI T Y
C ON F R AT ER N IT Y
DI SSO L VI NG
B Y ZA NTIUM
C H I N ESE AR T
C R OAT I AN
B UTTE RFL Y
AH M AT OVA;
A T LA NT I S
A Z A D;
B OS N I A N
BU C H AR EST
CRI M E A
PAÍ S
C EM ETER Y
CI TA TI O N
CO NF E RE NCE
B RUE G HE L HA NS
B E T HLE HE M
N OU VEAU
AU T U M N
B O RDE R
SH AH
A LDRO V A NDI ;
AN GYALF ÖLD
BAN SKÁ ŠT I AVN I C A
BO O K
BR N O
QAJ AR
ARCHI T ECT URE
A RT
POET I C A
BERL I N
B LO O P E R
AH M AD
AN GEL
HUNGA RI A N M ONA RCHY BAKH T IAR I
A FRI CA
ALC I AT O; AN D R EA
A R A B IC
ARM ENI AN
A FGH A N
XIN
Y U P A N QU I ;
QI J I
WA N G WE I
Y A NG
A TA HUA L P A
PASS Z HA NG