15 October 2007

If God could make me cry, I would run along the water...

I don't really have time to look through my photos and post a series that makes sense today, but I feel like posting, so I've decided to go with a random collection of shots. Since I also don't have time to write, I'm going to leave you with the lyrics to "64," by Bonnie "Prince" Billy and The Marquis de Tren (Mick Turner of The Dirty Three). The lyrics are adapted from Tagore's Gitanjal. It can be difficult listening at first because the songs lack traditional structure, but Oldham's voice--at times vulnerable, at others searching--and the languid, washing rhythms created by Tren reveal more with each listen. "64" is probably my favorite song from the album.


On the slope of the creek, I asked her
Where are you going hiding your flashlight with your coat?
My house is all dark and empty, I said
Lend me your light.
She raised her dark eyes for a moment and looked at my face through the dusk.
I’ve come to the creek, she said,
To shine my light on the animals in the water when it gets dark.

It got dark, so I asked her again if she would bring her light to my house.
As there were no animals in the water. There was nothing living moving.
She said I’m going to shine it on the sky; eventually it will reach a star.
Then I watched her shine her light uselessly into the sky.

In the moonless gloom of midnight I asked her
Why she still held the light so close to her chest.
My house is still dark and lonesome, I said, lend me your light.
I need it to walk home with, she said. I can’t see in the dark like a cat.
I watched her light get lost among the trees and into the lights of the houses.

1 comment:

Karen said...

I keep going back to the photo of the car and the pointy buildings. I like it, but I'm having trouble expressing why. Something about it feels like going home.