1. |
||||
Amina miy ounfashe
Ine ounfashe
Ishenok ishenokish.
Tsonayue
Gwiyane sham haye
Gwiyane sonz, sonz, sonz.
Amina miy ounfashe
Ine ounfashe
Ishenok ishenokish.
Shamhaye, iyana shamhaye
Alezimov, alewiy.
|
||||
2. |
||||
Do do do do do
Do do do do.
It’s finally evening
End of the day
Dreams come calling
Take us away.
They come and they go
And they do what they want to.
Welcome to dreamland, welcome to dreamland,
Welcome to dreamland
Welcome. Welcome.
|
||||
3. |
||||
Une fièvre de couleur
Dépouillée de toute douceur
Aussi brillante que le verre—
Ma fièvre brûle la terre,
Brûle la terre.
Il y a de la fièvre
Dans mes yeux
Et je chasse toutes les visions
Que je peux.
Que je peux.
** Translation: A Permanent Fever **
A fever of color
Stripped of softness
As shiny as glass—
My fever burns the Earth,
burns the Earth.
There’s fever in my eyes
As I hunt all the visions that I can,
That I can.
|
||||
4. |
||||
Tired of everything that came before
Everything old and exhausted
We construct with our own hands
We assemble out of steel, and grease, and gasoline
A new aesthetic, a new idea of pleasure,
Of what gives delight: electricity, fire, pistons
Gears, and valves, and sparks
And, in the flickering light: speed, speed, speed.
And if our machines consume us well
Nothing runs without fuel.
Nothing, nothing.
Nothing runs without fuel.
And if our machines consume us
Well, well, well.
Well, well.
|
||||
5. |
||||
It is moral if it is richly flavored, urgent with life
It is moral if it asserts the future and perfects enjoyment
It is good if it is graceful, quick, and unsentimental
It is good if you can dance to it.
The new commandment is: thou shalt.
Thou shalt.
It is good if you can dance to it.
It is moral if you can dance to it.
It is good if it is colorful.
If it is richly flavored.
If it is urgent with life.
It is good if you can dance to it.
Dance to it.
Dance to it.
|
||||
6. |
||||
Huh! Huh huh!
Rah! Rah!
Every page, every page, every puh-page
Every page, every page page page page.
Every page should explode
Every page, every page
Every page should explode
Exp-exp-exp-explode.
|
||||
7. |
||||
J’ai un corps de verre , j’ai un coeur mécanique
Je suis heureux, je suis heureux
Je suis plein de bonheur.
J’ai un coeur de verre, j’ai un corps mécanique
Je danse au soleil
Je suis si romantique.
J’écoute la chanson
Mais j’entends la ville.
J’écoute la chanson
Mais j’entends la pluie.
J’entends, juste à peine, ce que tu dis.
** Translation: The Bride **
I have a glass body, I have a mechanical heart.
I’m happy, I’m happy
I’m full of good humor.
I have a glass heart, I have a mechanical body.
I dance in the sun
I’m that romantic.
I listen to the song
But I hear the city.
I listen to the song
But I hear the rain.
And I hear, just barely, what you’re saying.
|
||||
8. |
Opera (for Zhao Shou)
04:00
|
|||
No lyrics.
|
||||
9. |
||||
No lyrics.
|
||||
10. |
||||
She is always *the* woman.
The most perfect machine.
She’s singular, precise.
And she’s sex.
Hmmm.
She’s a mask, a mystery.
And she is *the* woman.
*The* woman.
|
||||
11. |
||||
No lyrics.
|
||||
12. |
||||
C’est l’extase?
C’est l’extase.
Cette âme
En flammes.
Et ma raison
Chante ma chanson..
C’est l’extase?
C’est l’extase.
C’est l’extase.
Translation: This is Ecstasy
This is ecstasy?
This is ecstasy.
This soul
In flames.
And my reason
Sings my song.
This is ecstasy?
This is ecstasy.
This is ecstasy.
|
||||
13. |
||||
No lyrics.
|
||||
14. |
||||
She said:
Here is where I was born
In the wood
In the vast wood.
And in the rain that fell, my mother exulted.
I have seen it, glimpses—
In my dreams, in my ecstasies.
And here is also where
My mother died, that very night.
There’s the grave
Profound and secret.
Wildflower and wood
Wildflower and my mother.
Wildflower and wood
Wildflower and my mother.
|
||||
15. |
||||
Je me glisse
Entre tes mots
Entre les feuilles
Entre les sons.
Je perds le chemin
Les étoiles
Toutes les cartes.
Ici je suis perdu
Et ici je me retrouve—
Chez moi encore.
** Translation: Between Your Words **
I slip
Between your words
Between the leaves
Between the sounds.
I lose the path
The stars
All the maps.
Here, I’m lost
And here I rediscover myself—
At home once more.
|
||||
16. |
||||
Dans le courant de la foule
Au milieu de cent remous
Dans ce monde d’instantané
Je touche mais je ne suis pas touché.
Je vois, mais je ne suis pas vu
Dans la foule si chaude et douce
Sur ma langue il y a le goût
D’humanité et ses tabous.
La foule est une chose vivante
Énergique et captivante
La foule poursuit et la foule chasse
Dévore la vie, laisse la carcasse.
** Translation: The Flâneur In The Crowd **
In the current of the crowd
In the middle of a hundred eddies
In this world of the snapshot
I touch but I’m not touched.
I see, but I’m not seen
In the crowd so hot and sweet.
On my tongue there is the taste
Of humanity and its taboos.
The crowd is a living thing
Energetic and captivating
The crowd pursues and the crowd hunts
Devours life, leaving the carcass.
|
||||
17. |
||||
Barulho! E bagunça! E banalidade.
Intolerável!
Devemos engolir o mundo
Nossas próprias paixões
Fazer o novo mundo.
Barulho! E bagunca! E banalidade.
** Translation: The Cannibal Song **
Noise! And mess! And banality.
Intolerable!
We must swallow the world
Our own passions
Make the new world.
Noise! And mess! And banality.
|
||||
18. |
||||
She looked at me—
she looked at me and she said:
It’s the runoff from the abattoir that waters this grove
What blooms up above is what’s planted below.
What sinks in the shadows, flows in the root
And the sugar in the dark makes for sweeter fruit.
Life’s too short to be ordinary.
The water here is shallow, but the woods are deep
And no one here bothers about the company you keep.
You come here to visit, but I know you’ll stay
All the swamp folk get started that way.
Life’s too short.
Life’s too short.
Too short, too short.
|
||||
19. |
||||
One I pick up
One I put down
One I pick up
One I let go.
Piazza shadows
Cling to the walls.
Memory shadows
Childhood calls.
Shadows.
Shadows.
|
||||
20. |
||||
I am fiction, I am thee.
I am fiction, I am free.
I am fiction, I am free.
It must be: beauty and perfection
It must be: endless variety
It must be: richness and
richness and
richness and splendor.
I am unbroken
And free.
|
Nas Hedron Toronto, Ontario
“An artist who gives a fresh new and startling meaning to the word interdisciplinary.”
-- Donald
Brackett, author of "Back to Black: Amy Winehouse's Only Masterpiece" and "Fleetwood Mac: 40 Years of Creative Chaos."
Nas Hedron divides his time between his native Canada and Brazil.
... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like Nas Hedron, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp