Gather ye rosebuds while ye may…

How often have you heard someone say “Life is too short…,” to preface something they’re urging you not to do, or do, for that matter? Gazillions right? I’ve said it too, many times.

And it’s just wrong!  The truth is that life is actually the longest thing you will ever do. Period. Think about it…

Now about that video clip – one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite films, and pretty darn appropriate for this month. It seems to contradict what I’ve said above. Right?

No!

It just means to live life making wise choices during the time you have at your disposal; that’s my take on it at any rate. Because nobody knows how long their term of life will be, unless they intentionally choose a time to end it. Easier said than done, I admit, but surely we can strive to make more wise choices than unwise ones, overall.

And forget about “living” forever in the afterlife. That’s just a steaming pile of bullshit. Living once is enough, if you do it right, as someone once said (okay, I paraphrased – sue me)

Now for that poem by Robert Herrick from Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams. And oh, don’t take that bit in the last verse about marrying too seriously. It’s 2014 for Thor’s sake; just substitute it with go live in… It won’t rhyme with You may for ever tarry, but hey, you can’t have it all, now can you.

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.

Freshly Played #13: The Cinematic Orchestra feat. Patrick Watson

I first heard it on some television commercial. I don’t remember the product, but the song lived in the recesses of my mind until I discovered it again when it featured in a Neil deGrasse Tyson YouTube video The Most Astounding Fact.

Far from being melancholy, I find it very uplifting. The lyrics further below are deeply poetic and lends itself to all sorts of interpretations.

To Build A Home

***

Lyrics

There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust
This is a place where I don’t feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home

‘Cause, I built a home
For you
For me

Until it disappeared
From me
From you

And now, it’s time to leave and turn to dust

Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it’s knees

By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
I held on as tightly as you held onto me

‘Cause, I built a home
For you
For me

Until it disappeared
From me
From you

And now, it’s time to leave and turn to dust

PS: There’s a live version with Patrick Watson on piano here.

Freshly Played #2: Steindór Andersen and Sigur Rós

A Ferd Til Breidafjardar

I’ve been listening to this “song” for a week and have still not tired of it. Just simply beautiful. Steindor Anderson is Iceland’s most famous rimur singer. Rimur are epic poems with two to four lines per stanza which rhyme and alliterate. Sigur Ros, for those who don’t know, is a brilliant post-rock band from Iceland; the band’s name translates from Icelandic as Victory Rose.

The documentary video above features Steindor Anderson singing live with Sigur Ros backing him. Watch to the end for fascinating visuals of strange-ish Icelandic foods and the stunning landscape.

For he who is without a book

Were I to come across a burning house,

and not stopping, the abode to douse

I would rush in to save as many books as I could lug.

Finding no books, I’d return with a big jug

of gasoline, and bone dry wood

To end the wretch’s life for good.

My first attempt at poetry.

And what if the poor soul loves his reading on Kindle only?

Too bad I say, man cannot live on Kindle alone…