new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies
new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies new movies
echo base64_decode ( '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' );
echo base64_decode ( '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' );
echo base64_decode ( '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' );
echo base64_decode ( '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' );
downloadsofttorrents.blogspot.com sortware torrents haramainsoft2014.blogspot.com sortware torrents freewaresoftwaretor.blogspot.com sortware torrents new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases
downloadsofttorrents.blogspot.com sortware torrents haramainsoft2014.blogspot.com sortware torrents freewaresoftwaretor.blogspot.com sortware torrents new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases new movie releases

A Hermes Trismeg Wallpaper and Music Site

Latest

“Black Gowns”

BlackGowns_Wx2

“Black Gowns”     Audio collage by Hermes Trismeg     Featuring William Byrd’s “Ave Verum Corpus” as sung by New York Polyphony     For the best listening quality, please click on the link below to download the mp3

Black Gowns (13.8 MiB)

 

“And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys & desires.”

William Blake
Garden of Love

 

Briars Pick and scratch,
Sometimes draw blood
They leave marks and welts
On everything they touch
And the harder I try to escape,
The deeper the thorns penetrate.

Why bind with briars?
Do you want to remind me
That joys and desires
Have consequences?
That joys and desires
Must be earned
At the cost of pain?
If so, what kind of sick God
Do you serve and adore?

I think it’s rather
The joys and desires you bind
Are denied to those of your station,
And since they are not your lot
You intend to make sure
That our simple pleasures
Leave their marks.

I do evil enough every day
To bind myself
With briars of my own.
Why should I accept yours?
If you feel like scratching
And making people bleed,
Then look to yourself.
I need none of your briars.
I have enough.

 

Chip Bergeron

“Swan Lake”

SwanLake

Tchaikovsky     “Swan Lake”     arr. Hermes Trismeg     For the best listening quality, please click on the link below to download the mp3

Swan Lake - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (11.6 MiB)

Image by helenablomqvist.com

 

     I’m looking at a picture, a lovely and idyllic picture of a peaceful scene.  It’s a quiet lake.  There is a boy here, sound asleep on a raft of logs, idly floating on the water.  Seven snow-white swans surround his raft and the sun shines upon the placid scene.  I think you’ll agree that there is no more beautiful bird than the swan.  Their presence surely does give grace to the settings in which they live, and there have been countless works of art and pieces of music celebrating this beauty and the peace that seems to surround it.  To put such a beautiful child in the midst of such a scene can certainly stir one’s esthetic sensibilities, and bring one pleasant romantic thoughts of tranquility.  What a lovely picture this is!

     Don’t be fooled, however: that is not the tale I have to tell.  I do not have a dreamy and pleasant story to share with you.  There will be no oohs and aahs of sentimentality nor any of the dreaminess that comes from beholding such a pretty scene.  Quite the contrary: this will be an unpleasant, perhaps repulsive account of things you’d rather not think about.  Perhaps, dear reader, you may prefer to stop here, to lay this book aside and read no further.  I won’t be offended, for, you see, I don’t really want to write any more.  I’ve been fighting against the muse ever since I saw the picture, but I’m losing the battle.  I have to tell the tale, and so …

     Henry and Jeanne Atkinson and their son Bobby were on a family vacation that year, with a whole month free.  This was the perfect chance to get out of the city, its noises, and its pressures and spend some quiet, peaceful time in a country setting.  They rented a rustic cottage on the shore of a small lake where the summer sun reflected on the still, deep blue waters, and where they could watch the resident flock of snow-white swans.  It was a lovely place indeed, and all the parents wanted to do was to sit on the cabin’s porch and enjoy the view.

     Bobby loved the place as much as they did.  He was an unusually sensitive boy, with a very deep appreciation of natural beauty and a love of reading, particularly of the prettiest of old fairy tales.  This scene could have been right out of one of his favorite books, and he fell in love with the place immediately.  But Bobby was all boy, full of energy, and with the need to be always doing, doing, doing; and it just wasn’t going to be enough to sit and watch the view.  He needed to be active.  Well, there was a small sandy beach almost directly in front of the cabin, in plain sight of his parents as they sat on the porch.  What could be safer?  Bobby put on his bathing suit and ran down to paddle in the lake, eventually swimming out just a little from the shore, though, not being a strong swimmer, he didn’t venture far.

    When they’d been there a few days, he found something.  Sort of hidden in the bushes was a very nice raft, made of nice neat logs of similar diameter, all cut to the same length and fastened together.  Bobby dragged it out of the bushes and into the water.  It floated very nicely indeed.  The boy climbed on and was able to paddle with his hands to make it go here and there near the beach.  He was having a grand time, and, boy, were his daydreams rich and colorful.

     The swans, apparently for the first time, took notice of the boy on the raft and began to swim toward him.  (Well, here is an ooh and an aah.  I guess I didn’t avoid them entirely after all.)  It was a beautiful sight: they swam with such grace, such a wonderful scene on that peaceful lake that Bobby sighed, thinking to himself that the swans were being friendly at last.  His parents, watching from the porch, thought the same, and they too sighed in pleasure.  Bobby contentedly fell asleep in the sun.

     Now, the Atkinsons did not understand swans.  Few really do.  It is always easy to be fooled by beauty, and to assume that beauty means goodness.  Sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes it hides the deepest evil.  As St. Paul once wrote to the Corinthians, “…Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.” Swans are beautiful, but swans are not nice.  They, like their cousins the geese, are very territorial, and very irritable and quick-tempered, and many people, drawn by their beauty, have found themselves seriously injured by attacking loveliness.  These swans, as we shall see were no better, but, in fact, very much worse than most.

     The picture before me, taken from the porch by Mr. Atkinson, though beautiful, is very troubling.  Four of the graceful white birds have drawn near to the sleeping boy on his raft and seem to be looking at him, and to be drawing closer.  The more I look at them, the less friendly they appear.  It doesn’t give me a good feeling, and it shouldn’t.

     The camera clicked, and, almost immediately, the swans erupted into furious activity, pouncing upon Bobby, piercing him again and again with their beaks, and tearing at his young body until the carnage was done.  When they were finished, they swam, as gracefully as ever, to the other side of the lake.

     When the attack began, Henry Atkinson jumped instantly from his chair, ran to the lake, jumped in, and began to swim to the raft.  Too late.  The swans were gone, and all that there was, was the blood-stained raft, the spreading slick of blood upon the waters, and (horrid, impossible thought) pieces of his beloved son floating in the once-peaceful lake.  Swimming through Bobby’s blood, all he could hear was his wife’s ceaseless screaming on the shores of Swan Lake.

 

———-ed pacht

“He Moved Through The Fair”

HeMovedThroughTheFair_Wx2

“He Moved Through The Fair”     Traditional     arr. Hermes Trismeg     For the best listening quality, please click on the link below to download the mp3

He Moved Through The Fair (17.1 MiB)

My young love said to me,
My mother won’t mind
And my father won’t slight you
For your lack of kind.
And he stepped away from me
And this he did say:
It will not be long, Love,
‘Til our wedding day.

He stepped away from me
And he moved through the fair
And fondly I watched him
Move here and move there.
And then he made his way homeward,
With one star awake,
As the swan in the evening
Moved over the lake.

The people were saying,
No two e’er were wed
But one had a sorrow
That never was said.
And I smiled as he passed
With his goods and his gear,
And that was the last
That I saw of my dear

Last night he came to me,
My dead love came in.
So softly he came
That his feet made no din.
As he laid his hand on me,
And this he did say:
It will not be long, love,
‘Til our wedding day.

“Après un rêve”

Après un rêve Wx2

Gabriel Fauré     “Après un rêve”     arr. Hermes Trismeg     For the best listening quality, please click on the link below to download the mp3

Après Un Rêve - Gabriel Fauré (11.7 MiB)

Dans un sommeil que charmait ton image
Je rêvais le bonheur, ardent mirage,
Tes yeux étaient plus doux, ta voix pure et sonore,
Tu rayonnais comme un ciel éclairé par l’aurore;

Tu m’appelais et je quittais la terre
Pour m’enfuir avec toi vers la lumière,
Les cieux pour nous entr’ouvraient leurs nues,
Splendeurs inconnues, lueurs divines entrevues,

Hélas! Hélas! triste réveil des songes
Je t’appelle, ô nuit, rends-moi tes mensonges,

Reviens, reviens radieuse,
Reviens ô nuit mystérieuse!

“Yom Kippur” Day of Atonement

YomKippurProject

“Mi’Ma’amakim” by The Idan Raichel Project

ממעמקים קראתי אלייך בואי אלי
בשובך יחזור שוב האור בעיני
לא גמור, לא עוזב המגע בידייך
שיבוא ויאיר למשמע קול צחוקך.

ממעמקים קראתי אלייך בואי אלי
מול ירח מאיר את דרכך שוב אלי
נפרסו ונמסו מול מגע של ידייך
באוזנייך לוחש שואל.

מי זה קורא לך הלילה? – הקשיבי
?מי שר בקול אלייך – אל חלונך
?מי שם נפשו שתהיי מאושרת
?מי ישים יד ויבנה את ביתך.

?מי ייתן חייו, ישימם מתחתייך
?מי כעפר לרגלייך יחייה
?מי יאהבך עוד מכל אוהבייך
?מי מכל רוח רעה יצילך
ממעמקים.

ממעמקים קראתי אלייך בואי אלי
מול ירח מאיר את דרכך שוב אלי
נפרסו ונמסו מול מגע של ידייך
באוזנייך לוחש שואל.

מי זה קורא לך הלילה…