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Showing posts from May, 2017

Songs of the exile. Corrandes d'Exili.

Here you are:
I do this cover because I usually enjoy singing this song. This song was made by Lluís Llach, one of the most important singers of Catalonia. He did it using the lyrics of a poem of Joan Oliver, that was one of the greatest poets of the time of the exile, when thousands of people of Catalonia had to scape from fascists that were conquering their homeland and killing thousands of people that fell died on the roads and outskirts of the cities. The song expains the pain and the sadness of the writer, when he was crossing the Pirenees in the night with his wife, watching their steps to not being captured by the enemies, and leaving may be for ever their homeland towards France, where some months later Hitler would overrun and chase them too. So... they should keep scaping further than France, to Mexico. This is my first try to sing this poem. I'll keep trying next summer, may be in "El Marquet de les Roques" a wonderfull…

Do you like being naked?

-Oh! You like being nude! Isn't it?

-No... In fact, I never think about being nude... What I like is feeling the Sun, the wind, the sea... on my whole skin as it was just one reality... I like doing it while I smell the pines and hear the wave's sound, and fill myself with such a beautiful landscape... If I thought I had to be nude... or if I wished the idea of being naked... I would lose all those perceptions
The little foolish things of life are the core of our life:
. . . . .

Only our rivers run free...

Some years ago, Mickey MacConnell wrote a wonderful song that talks about the freedom of his land. The natural elements of the landscape, the earth, the wind... those powers that seduce us with the memories of our ancestors... appear in the lyrics, and touch our hearts. Day after day, I try to improve my singing of this song... Anyway I'm happy to put my heart on it as a love's action. This is the main matter, the most important attittude: to do the things for loving. I hope you like:   . . . . .