The rock band Faith No More was formed in 1979 in San Francisco, California. It released its third studio album The Real Thing on June 20, 1989. I like its 11th and last track, a funny song titled “Edge of the World,” which was also released as a single in 1991. The band’s lead singer Mike Patton wrote the lyrics, while the the bass player Billy Gould, keyboard player Roddy Bottum and drummer Mike Bordin composed the music. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Dans Les matins d’or et les nuits bleues, la première partie du recueil Les pommiers en fleur : idylles de France et de Normandie d’Émile Blémont (1891), j’ai choisi ce beau poème, plein de tendresse, où l’auteur chante l’éveil et l’amour envers sa « petite inspiratrice », avec qui il veut être « comme Dante et Béatrice » et cueillir des fleurs qui ne se faneront jamais. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
The poet offers his beloved a necklace with sixteen white pearls, one for each of her years. Indeed, this age is the one Ashby-Sterry prefers in girls. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Chuck Berry released in June 1959 a single on Chess Records, with A-side “Back in the U.S.A.” and B-side “Memphis, Tennessee.” In that song, he is speaking to a long-distance telephone operator, asking to find the number of a girl named Marie who tried to phone him from Memphis, Tennessee. He explains that they were separated by her mother who “did not agree / And tore apart our happy home in Memphis, Tennessee.” He finally reveals that Mary is aged six. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Wilfrid and Alice Meynell had eight children: Sebastian, Monica, Everard, Madeleine, Viola, Vivian, Olivia, and Francis. In the “Biographical Note” introducing the book Selected Poems of Francis Thompson, Wilfrid Meynell writes of Francis Thompson:
The children of the family in London, into which he was received, were the subjects of Poppy, The Making of Viola, To Monica Thought Dying, To my Godchild—all in the first book of Poems; while two of their number have a noble heritage in Sister Songs. Constant to the end, when he died some newly pencilled lines were found, addressed “To Olivia,” a yet younger sister, recalling the strains of fifteen years before.
Indeed, this poem dedicated to the youngest Meynell daughter, born in 1890, was published by Wilfrid Meynell several years after Thompson’s death in 1907. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Un soleil sombre illumine le cœur des amants hérétiques qui créent le bonheur et l’harmonie par l’union intime des contraires. Leurs yeux brûlants perçoivent un avenir étrange et beau. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Émile Blémont, de son vrai nom Léon-Émile Petitdidier, est un écrivain français, né à Paris le 17 juillet 1839 et mort dans cette même ville le 1er février 1927. Très prolifique, il a laissé de nombreux recueils de poèmes, plusieurs pièces de théâtre, des traductions françaises d’œuvres en anglais, etc. Très actif dans son milieu professionnel, il fonda et anima plusieurs revues littéraires ; il fut également l’un des fondateurs de la Société des poètes français et de la Maison de poésie. Il fut lié à Victor Hugo, aux poètes du Parnasse et aux poètes symbolistes, en particulier Paul Verlaine. Arthur Rimbaud lui offrit le manuscrit de son sonnet Voyelles, qui se trouve aujourd’hui au Musée Rimbaud. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
After being rescued from vagrancy, the poet Francis Thompson was brought by Wilfrid and Alice Meynell to Our Lady of England Priory in Storrington, West Sussex, where he stayed in order to recover from his opium addiction. In his “Biographical Note” introducing Selected Poems of Francis Thompson, Wilfrid Meynell wrote: CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
I present today a beautiful love poem devoted to a girl, published in Boudoir Ballads (1876). For six months, from January to June, the poet lived a passionate love affair with a young girl. But love, like a rose, finally wilts, and only remains its soft fragrance. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
Sombre et beau, l’amour brille comme un astre noir qui va se briser sur les récifs d’une réalité trop dure. Voilà une société défectueuse où la passion fait trop souvent naufrage. CONTINUE READING / CONTINUER LA LECTURE…
