If you can read french, please read this aloud as it has been going through my head lately as one of the most beautiful french poems I know. The words slide into each other and fall gracefully off my tongue, even when I just think them to myself.
Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure oû blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai pars la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.
Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehor, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, les dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.
Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.
-Victor Hugo
I've been thinking lately that I want to start learning Russian because one evening of hearing it spoken was enough to make me look past how hard everyone says it is to learn. I already know it would be worth it. I also want to learn Spanish and Italian because they are also both beautiful and important to classical music. Portugese has also become more interesting for me, having been introduced to the music of Marisa Monte. Could it be possible to keep learning new languages all my life?
Cultural infatuations seem to follow a pattern of turning into major life study with me. I think I'm deciding to be ok with that. Especially because the Russian alphabet is fascinating and Marisa Monte is undeniably hot.
-lucy ann
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