1. |
At My Chamber Door
06:19
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2. |
Mater Nigra
03:42
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Lady Lazarus
by Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it--
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?--
Yes, yes Herr Professor
It is I.
Can you deny
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot--
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone, I may be Japanese,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash--
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
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3. |
Les Bains du Harem
01:45
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4. |
Amor
03:26
|
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http://akila-sekhet.blogspot.pt/2011/12/amor.html
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5. |
Diluvian Love
06:45
|
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6. |
A Voz da Carne
03:21
|
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7. |
Point of Perception
08:44
|
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8. |
The Glory of Christ
08:34
|
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9. |
Rockaby
05:05
|
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10. |
The Morning In My Hand
06:21
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11. |
Canção do Bardo
03:17
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12. |
Horus Blowing
03:03
|
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13. |
Cantara (Dead Can Dance)
04:35
|
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14. |
909
07:23
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15. |
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16. |
A Goblin At Church
05:22
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17. |
Neda
01:57
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18. |
Night Whisperwind
00:46
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19. |
Janelas Insufláveis
24:56
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