Lean on me
When you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on...
Wenn Trauerwolken dich bedrohen
Schieb' ich sie beiseite
Geh' jeden schweren Schritt mit dir
Werd' dich immer begleiten
Lean on me, let our hearts beat in time
Feel strength from the hands that have held you so long
Es liegt noch was vor uns,
Das Leben liegt vor uns
Spürst du die VorhutThe red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.
Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind.
The kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Det är så erbarmligt lite
en människa kan forstå.
Man skulle ej grubbla och tänka
men tänker och grubblar ändå.
Och dagarna fogas till veckor,
veckorna fogas till år.
Man skulle ej snärjas av grubbel
så hastigt som livet går.
Nils Ferlin (Från mitt ekorrhjul, 1957)
Yo te esperaba
Imaginando a ciegas el color de tu mirada
Y el timbre de tu voz
Muerta de miedo
Le rogaba al cielo que te deje llegar lejos
Mucho más que yo
Oh, it's a mystery to me
We have a greed, with which we have agreed”for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.”
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
Latmasken sammanträder
Han pratar vind och väder.
Han hyvlar inga bräder.
Han garvar inget läder.
Han sömmar inga kläder.
Han bygger inga städer.
Han hedrar inga fäder.
Han sammanträder.
Ur ”Underfund” 1972, Alf Henriksson
they don't really give a damn about life
they just don't want a woman to
control her body or have the right to choose
but baby that ain't nothin
they just want a male finger on the button
because if you say war they will send them to die by the score
Morning has broken like the first morning, Blackbird has spoken like the first bird, Praise for the singing, praise for the morning, Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Y cuando logramos
dominar la prisa
y sentirnos libres
de esa angustia viva,
¡qué lindo ir despacio
por entre la prisa!