We have moved

I wonder if the cockroaches
still crawl in Dave an’ Terri’s
fifteenth street kitchen
I wonder if they’re the same cockroaches
ah yes the times’ve changed
Dave still scorns me for not readin’ books
an’ Terri still laughs at my rakish ways
but fifteenth street has been abandoned
we have moved . . .
the cats across the roof
mad in love
scream into the drain pipes
bringing’ in the sounds of music
the only music
an’ it is I who is ready
ready t’ listen
restin’ restin’
a silver peace
reigns an’
becomes the nerves of mornin’
an’ I stand up an’ yawn
hot with jumpin’ pulse
never tired
never sad
never guilty
for I am runnin’ in a fair race
with no racetrack but the night
an’ no competition but the dawn.

- Bob Dylan (Mayo 24, 1941)
Músico, poeta y escritor estadounidense.
En Eleven Outlined Epitaphs

One in the world

When I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

-Walt Whitman (1819-1892)
Poeta, ensayista y periodista estadounidense.

El Club de la Polilla y el Lobo Pt. 1 - "Una canción de muy lejos"

 ¿Alguna vez has despertado con una canción pegada en la cabeza
desde el primer segundo que abres los ojos?
Como si algo o alguien te hubiera estado cantado mientras dormías.
Susurros corren de un lado a otro, subiendo y bajando por tu mente.
Puedes sentirlos resonar a medida que comienza el día
esta tonada tan familiar arrastrándose por tu tímpano.
 
Caminas con la balada medio recordada todavía muy viva.
Y te detienes en seco, pues puedes sentir el silencio mismo de repente volviéndose aún más mudo.

Luego viene un sonido.
Primero distante, crece hasta convertirse en un magnífico estruendo.
Y el pensamiento se libera.

Intentas descifrar su procedencia.
No terminas de comprender lo que es, pero quieres atraparlo. 
Quieres captar el destello.
Porque en el fondo sabes que de alguna manera, te pertenece.

Y dices:
Espera un segundo, no me digas, no me digas.
Yo sé cuál es, yo conozco esta canción.
Yo conozco esta canción.

Comienzas a tararear la melodía

Los sonidos se convierten en palabras que se convierten en versos
Empiezas a construir el acertijo,
quieres resolver este rompecabezas.
Ya casi estás ahí, los versos se alinean y un cascabeleo aparece, se forma un coro.
 

Te la sabes de memoria, la has oído toda la vida
Estás entonando, silbando, cantando
La tienes en la punta de la lengua
Y está justo ahí esperando por ti.
¿Cómo se llamaba?

Pero - un momento... 

¿Estás seguro de que te la sabes?
¿Realmente has escuchado esta canción antes?
¿Puede que sea sólo tu memoria haciéndote bromas?

¿Cómo podemos saber que no es algo diferente?
¿Algo más?

¿Podría ser acaso nada más que el pasado, jugando con nosotros 

Saliendo de su escondite
Tratando de decirnos algo?

Esta es una canción de hace mucho tiempo,
Una canción de muy lejos
Mucho, mucho más vieja que yo.
Más vieja incluso que mi abuelo.
Él era quien solía cantarla en los años 50
Una época más simple, un tiempo más tranquilo.
Solía ​​bailar a su lento ritmo a través de docenas de clubes de jazz y salas de baile.
Esta música vestía la inocencia de los días
donde el amor de un hombre y una mujer permanecía fiel y creía en lo imposible
Pero la juventud de mi abuelo se convirtió en arena
y su voz se secó, se convirtió en un fantasma suave
Una niebla cándida que lleva el plateado aroma del tiempo,
el eco atrapado en mi tintero.

Espera un segundo, no me digas, no me digas.
Yo sé cuál es, yo conozco esta canción.
Yo conozco esta canción.

¿Puede ser? 

The Wolf and Moth Club Pt. 1 - "A Song From Far Away "

Have you ever woken up with a song stuck in your head
right from the very first second you open your eyes?
As if something or someone were singing to you in your sleep.
Whispers run back and forth, climbing up and down your mind.
You can feel them resonate as you begin the day
this most familiar tune crawling down your eardrum.

You walk around with the half remembered ballad still very much alive.
And you stop on your tracks, for you feel silence itself suddenly becoming even more mute.

Then comes a sound.
Distant first, it grows into a magnificent roar
And the thought unlocks.

You try to decipher its provenance.
You don't quite grasp what it is, but you wanna catch it.
You want to embrace the glimpse.
Because deep down you know, somehow, it belongs to you.

And you go:
Hold on just a second, don't tell me this one.
I know this one, I know this song
I know this song.

You start humming the melody
Sounds become words which become verses
You start building the puzzle,
you wanna solve this jigsaw.
You're almost there, the verses align and a jingle pops in, a chorus is formed.

You know it by heart, you've heard it your whole life
You're humming, whistling, chanting
It's in the tip of your tongue
And it's right there waiting for you
What was it called?

But - wait a second...

Are you sure you know it?
Have you really heard this song before?
Can it be just your memory playing tricks on you?

How do we know it's not something different?
Something else?

Could it be just the past, playing with us
Coming out of its hiding place
Trying to tell us something?

This is a song from long ago,
A song from far away
Much, much older than me.
Older even than my grandfather.
He was the one who used to sing it back in the 50's
A simpler age, a quieter time.
He used to dance at its slow beat through dozens of jazz clubs and ballrooms.
This music wore the innocence of the days
where the love of a man and a woman could hold true and believe in the impossible
But my grandpa's epoch of youth turned into sand
and his voice dried up, it became a soft ghost

A candid mist carrying the silver scent of time,
the echo trapped in my inkpot.

Hold on just a second, don't tell me this one.
I know this one, I know this song
I know this song.

Could it be?

The Flames' Sweet Caress

How do you stay motivated in the midst of everything that's going on? How do you build your personal momentum and how do you get in the zone? Right? And I'm glad you asked.

Three things, you better catch it. My mother used to say: "people love watching fire burn!" Alright? Okay, that's one thing I know about life, one thing I know about life is a guarentee, right? Change is inevitable. And listen to me, as much as you like to be in your comfort zone, as much as you like to be stable, as much as you like to control your environment, the reality is: everything changes.

Alright here's my last one, my last one is make, Carl you gotta give me that term again, it's spontaneous combustion I think is what they call it and what happens is...

When a fire starts to burn, and it starts to spread...

-Eric Thomas
Motivational speaker.  
Sampled in Disclosure's 2013 album Settle.
Tracks "Intro" and "When a Fire Starts To Burn".