Hace un tiempo, exactamente el 3 de Julio publiqué este post en mi journal de last fm.
Fue mi primer experimento serio con el inglés, es decir me tomé el tiempo para escribirlo revisarlo, releerlo y al final postearlo. Luego, lo traduje y lo publiqué aquí, en mis disquisiciones.
Ahora, como no pensé que fuese a haber comentario alguno sobre el, de hecho nisiquiera ha sido aceptado por el grupo de fans de la banda en last.fm, lo cierto es que algunos de mis nuevos amigos virtuales lo hicieron y me sentí complacido y agradecido con ellos (Desde la lejana Bulgaria, increíble este grupito lo que hace, no lo creen?). Este es mi pequeño homenaje a Marksito y sus muchachos.... gracias a todos por tomarse la molestia de leerlo:
Fue mi primer experimento serio con el inglés, es decir me tomé el tiempo para escribirlo revisarlo, releerlo y al final postearlo. Luego, lo traduje y lo publiqué aquí, en mis disquisiciones.
Ahora, como no pensé que fuese a haber comentario alguno sobre el, de hecho nisiquiera ha sido aceptado por el grupo de fans de la banda en last.fm, lo cierto es que algunos de mis nuevos amigos virtuales lo hicieron y me sentí complacido y agradecido con ellos (Desde la lejana Bulgaria, increíble este grupito lo que hace, no lo creen?). Este es mi pequeño homenaje a Marksito y sus muchachos.... gracias a todos por tomarse la molestia de leerlo:
This is my first post in english and i wait until this special date to do it...
you judge!
"...You don't go quietly on to your grave..."
And he was right, He couldn't be quiet until he arrived at his grave. From today, eight years ago.
I don't know well that I say about him, perhaps, i could say that he was a good instrumentalist, but I it would have left very short. It could say that she was a good blues singer that he did not feel like that, but he expressed the own sadness of this kind of music.
Most exactly, I would be to say that he was a lucky player maybe, a destiny lover, somebody that was given completely to the life moments, somebody that couldn't be quiet, calm seeing as it passes the life before his eyes, no.
Mark wanted to play his life, risk it and bet it everything in black jack table or a game of pool.
Mark was a poet, an urban bard. He was from taxi driver to constructor and hitchhiker. He invented musical instruments like a new bass with only two cords for "Morphine" and other one call "Low Guitar" for his previous band "Treat Her Right".
But it's not enough, it's not enough listening the lyrics of the Morphine albums, songs as "Cure for Pain", "Have a Lucky Day", "Thursday", "The Night", "Good", "Claire".... (the list is so long), are enough to reveal his dark humor, his musical melancholy, that is reflected in his verses, his , his voice tone, his "Low" sound, his cadence to play bass, until in his face.
Obviusly, without the Danah Colley Sax, or the riate of Jerome's Drums, nothing of that Morphine's wonderful sonic alchemy would be possible.
But I, I prefer black jewels of Palmyra, like that beautiful Mulata loved by Baudelaire, those five jewels are "Good", "Cure for Pain", "Yes", "Like Swimming" and "The Night".
Mark has gone away physically, but he has left his legacy to us, are almost ten years and the fanatics (addicts, if the term is correct) follow in increase,this is sure because the good things improve with the passage of the years.
Eight years ago, you throw all your drugs away, because you finally found the definitive and sweet Cure for Pain infringed by the Zone.
I don't know well that I say about him, perhaps, i could say that he was a good instrumentalist, but I it would have left very short. It could say that she was a good blues singer that he did not feel like that, but he expressed the own sadness of this kind of music.
Most exactly, I would be to say that he was a lucky player maybe, a destiny lover, somebody that was given completely to the life moments, somebody that couldn't be quiet, calm seeing as it passes the life before his eyes, no.
Mark wanted to play his life, risk it and bet it everything in black jack table or a game of pool.
Mark was a poet, an urban bard. He was from taxi driver to constructor and hitchhiker. He invented musical instruments like a new bass with only two cords for "Morphine" and other one call "Low Guitar" for his previous band "Treat Her Right".
But it's not enough, it's not enough listening the lyrics of the Morphine albums, songs as "Cure for Pain", "Have a Lucky Day", "Thursday", "The Night", "Good", "Claire".... (the list is so long), are enough to reveal his dark humor, his musical melancholy, that is reflected in his verses, his , his voice tone, his "Low" sound, his cadence to play bass, until in his face.
Obviusly, without the Danah Colley Sax, or the riate of Jerome's Drums, nothing of that Morphine's wonderful sonic alchemy would be possible.
But I, I prefer black jewels of Palmyra, like that beautiful Mulata loved by Baudelaire, those five jewels are "Good", "Cure for Pain", "Yes", "Like Swimming" and "The Night".
Mark has gone away physically, but he has left his legacy to us, are almost ten years and the fanatics (addicts, if the term is correct) follow in increase,this is sure because the good things improve with the passage of the years.
Eight years ago, you throw all your drugs away, because you finally found the definitive and sweet Cure for Pain infringed by the Zone.
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