great scot, the weather outside...
i love any weather, really, yet today feels wonderful...
the faint moisture in the air?
the wind to toss your hair about?
the freshness in the air?
cool breeze that fills your lungs with life...
the feel also reminds me of so many evenings at camp, although this feel had a spring twist...
i indeed wish that i could just live outside... be part of it all...
i really can't express it.
too much just feeling what's around...
you don't always have to be able to express your thought, can't you just revel in what's going on or what's around you?
or is there too much thought to express it with an overtone of enjoyment?
i vote that your thoughts have melted into what you feel... and you just can't extract them because they're so entwined with you at the moment.
i am trying a soprano piece, it's my 'toy' to play with for the week :) it's fun switching around from tenor to soprano...
she did want me to sing this quite merry song about walking through the woods, was all nice before it talked about you and the guy you're walking through the forest with being wounded by cupid, falling in love, etc.. umm, it sounded like fun before then, merry and cheery and hilarious for me to sing in soprano, yet i thought not.
so she got an idea, and pulled out 'Che fiero costume'
or 'How void of comapssion'
translation:
How void of compassion is cupid his fashion,
Who drives me by torment himself to adore, himself to adore
Who drives me by torment himself to adore!
And yet in my ardor I follow the harder
The vision elusive he shadows before,
The vision elusive he shadows before.
How void of compassion is cupid his fashion,
Who drives me by torment himself to adore,
Who drives me by torment himself to adore!
O destiny senseless!
A boy so defenseless,
Scarce wean'd yet make us his favor implore,
Scarce wean'd yet make us his favor implore!
A tyrannous mentor, our eyes he doth enter,
With barbarous wiles till we sigh and give o'er,
With barbarous wiles till we sigh and give o'er.
O destiny senseless!
A boy so defenseless,
Scarce wean'd yet make us his favor implore,
Scarce wean'd yet make us his favor implore!
Scarce wean'd yet make us his favor implore!
(it ends on two high notes for me, F# then E-F# grace notes to G)
quite fun indeed :)
i like complaining about babaric, tyrannous cupid who's just a ridiculous demanding baby more than singing about merrily walking through the woods and nature (my haven, a place cupid has no business) and being stricken by him.
ha!
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