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It's nice to be in my own bed again.

Águas de Março

People have asked what the heck is "The Waters of March" ? Why that song? Here is the explanation from Wikipedia

• "Waters of March" ("Águas de Março") is a bossa nova song composed by Antonio Carlos Jobim. Jobim wrote both the English lyrics and Portuguese lyrics. When writing the English lyrics, Jobim avoided words with Latin roots resulting in the English version having more verses.

  In 2001 Brazil's leading daily newspaper polled more than 200 Brazilian journalists, musicians and other artists to name the all-time best Brazilian song; Águas de Março won.

  The song lyrics do not tell a story, but rather present a series of images that form a collage; nearly every line starts with "É...", in the Portuguese language, or "It's..." — the equivalent in the English language. Everything mentioned in the song is referred back to "the waters of March" or spring waters. The waters of March are a metaphor for the passing of daily life and its continual, inevitable progression towards death.

  The music has a constant downward progression much like spring waters flowing from the mountains as spring runoff into the ocean when the ice melts. The orchestration creates the illusion of the constant descending of notes much like Shepard tones.

  The song was used by Coca-Cola for a television commercial in the mid-1970s.Guitarist Oscar Castro-Neves relates that Jobim told him that writing in this kind of stream of consciousness was his version of therapy and saved him thousands in psychoanalysis bills.

Also, since I was born in March, to me it has a more poignant meaning. Although many people have sang it, below is the definitive version, by the the wonderful Elis Regina and incomparable Antonio Carlos Jobim.

• Águas de Março É pau, é pedra, é o fim do caminho É um resto de toco, é um pouco sozinho É um caco de vidro, é a vida, é o sol É a noite, é a morte, é um laço, é o anzol É peroba do campo, é o nó da madeira Caingá, candeia, é o Matita Pereira É madeira de vento, tombo da ribanceira É o mistério profundo, é o queira ou não queira É o vento ventando, é o fim da ladeira É a viga, é o vão, festa da cumeeira É a chuva chovendo, é conversa ribeira Das águas de março, é o fim da canseira É o pé, é o chão, é a marcha estradeira Passarinho na mão, pedra de atiradeira É uma ave no céu, é uma ave no chão É um regato, é uma fonte, é um pedaço de pão É o fundo do poço, é o fim do caminho No rosto o desgosto, é um pouco sozinho É um estrepe, é um prego, é uma conta, é um conto É uma ponta, é um ponto, é um pingo pingando É um peixe, é um gesto, é uma prata brilhando É a luz da manhã, é o tijolo chegando É a lenha, é o dia, é o fim da picada É a garrafa de cana, o estilhaço na estrada É o projeto da casa, é o corpo na cama É o carro enguiçado, é a lama, é a lama É um passo, é uma ponte, é um sapo, é uma rã É um resto de mato, na luz da manhã São as águas de março fechando o verão É a promessa de vida no teu coração É uma cobra, é um pau, é João, é José É um espinho na mão, é um corte no pé É um passo, é uma ponte, é um sapo, é uma rã É um belo horizonte, é uma febre terçã São as águas de março fechando o verão É a promessa de vida no teu coração

  Waters of March A stick, a stone, It's the end of the road, It's the rest of a stump, It's a little alone It's a sliver of glass, It is life, it's the sun, It is night, it is death, It's a trap, it's a gun The oak when it blooms, A fox in the brush, A knot in the wood, The song of a thrush The wood of the wind, A cliff, a fall, A scratch, a lump, It is nothing at all It's the wind blowing free, It's the end of the slope, It's a beam, it's a void, It's a hunch, it's a hope And the river bank talks of the waters of March, It's the end of the strain, The joy in your heart The foot, the ground, The flesh and the bone, The beat of the road, A slingshot's stone A fish, a flash, A silvery glow, A fight, a bet, The range of a bow The bed of the well, The end of the line, The dismay in the face, It's a loss, it's a find A spear, a spike, A point, a nail, A drip, a drop, The end of the tale A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light, The shot of a gun in the dead of the night A mile, a must, A thrust, a bump, It's a girl, it's a rhyme, It's a cold, it's the mumps The plan of the house, The body in bed, And the car that got stuck, It's the mud, it's the mud Afloat, adrift, A flight, a wing, A hawk, a quail, The promise of spring And the riverbank talks of the waters of March, It's the promise of life It's the joy in your heart A stick, a stone, It's the end of the road It's the rest of a stump, It's a little alone A snake, a stick, It is John, it is Joe, It's a thorn in your hand and a cut in your toe A point, a grain, A bee, a bite, A blink, a buzzard, A sudden stroke of night A pin, a needle, A sting, a pain, A snail, a riddle, A wasp, a stain A pass in the mountains, A horse and a mule, In the distance the shelves rode three shadows of blue And the riverbank talks of the waters of March, It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart A stick, a stone, The end of the road, The rest of a stump, A lonesome road A sliver of glass, A life, the sun, A knife, a death, The end of the run And the riverbank talks of the waters of March, It's the end of all strain, It's the joy in your heart.

  ---

  Listen to Jobim sing this beautiful song

  Love Jobim? Go here

  
  

  Note: You will note that the English translation is longer than the original Portuguese version. Jobim added lyrics to the song when it made the transition to English. If you speak Portuguese, you will also notice that some of the English lyrics bear no resemblance to the original lyrics. For example, the beautiful fourth stanza more properly translates to "It is wood that resists the wind, the falls of the riverbank, it's the profound mystery, it's wanting or not wanting." You can find more faithful (but perhaps less lyrical) translations, such as this one or this one. In each case, however, both the original lyrics and translations are flawed. Regarding the original lyrics, trust those offered at the Jobim fan site (which are the ones offered on this page). This translation is a little better, (and you can read about the results of selecting the best Brazilian song of all time ... guess first, of course). Regrettably, no translation can do justice to the original lyrics. You've just got to learn Portuquese .

  LINK
  

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Stranded In S'Pore

Apparently, one of the flight crew got sick, so I'm stranded until Monday. Wow. One person gets sick and a military plane can't fly? Anyway, I can think of worst places to be stranded. Unfortunately, I think I am coming down with a cold! My nose is running like crazy, and I think I feel a little warm. I guess traveling between three countries and six airplane flights in two week timespan, your bound to catch a bug. So it looks like my exciting weekend will consist of lots of orange juice, sudafed, and room service.

Happy National Day Singapore!

I guess my little vacation blog is comming to an end. The time has come, the Walrus said. I'm in Singapore, waitng for a flight out. I had a good time. Boy, I forgot what it is like to have friends, go out to dinner, bge around cute girls, heck, even go to a McDonalds or a 7-11 when I want. Now it's back to Diego. Not a bad place, the people I work with are great, but it's definately not something I'll be doing forever.

'The time has come,' the Walrus said,

The Walrus and the Carpenter

from 'Through the Looking-glass', Lewis Carroll, 1832-1898

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright -
|: And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night. :|

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done -
'It's very rude of him,' she said,
'To come and spoil the fun!'

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead -
There were no birds to fly.


The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
'If this were only cleared away,'
They said, 'it would be grand!'

'If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
'That they could get it clear?'
'I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

'O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
The Walrus did beseech,
'A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head -
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.


But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat -
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more -
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

'The time has come,' the Walrus said,
'To talk of many things:
Of shoes - and ships - and sealing-wax -
Of cabbages - and kings -
And why the sea is boiling hot -
And whether pigs have wings.'

'But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
'Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!'
'No hurry,' said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

'A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
'Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed -
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.'

'But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
'After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!'
'The night is fine,' the Walrus said.
'Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
'Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf -
I've had to ask you twice!'

'It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
'To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
'The butter's spread too thick!'

'I weep for you,' the Walrus said:
'I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

'O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
'You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none -
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

Tempest Fugit

fugit irreparabile tempus

fugit irreparabile tempus: Irrecoverable time glides away.

Mmm... Chicken!

Hey Amy, I'm Wearing Brown Again!

And I looked good!

The Most Handsome Man In Korea!

And my friend!

Tequila and Coffee

I only see it in Korea. Tequila shots with coffee and sugar. It's so good!

I'm A Messy Man!

Ji Eun's Mom's Shop

Ji Eun drew the picture on the door. It really looks like her Mom!

Kate and Ji Eun!

Just some dinner at a friend's house

Ok, Later Drinking, Eating, and Singing Room

The Land of the Morning Calm

Korea isn't just drinking, eating, and singing room. Here I enjoy some coffee with friends.