Philippe Jaroussky records "Troppo é insoffribile fiero martir" by A. ...

Philippe Jaroussky records " Lo seguitai felice" by A. Caldara.

A. Caldara: Vado o sposa (Enone)

A. Caldara: Tutti nemici e rei (Adriano in Siria)

Philippe Jaroussky, Caldara: Tutto fa nocchiero esparto

A. Caldara: O mi rendi in bel ch'io spero (Scipione nelle Spagne)

A. Caldara: Non tremar vassallo indegno (Temistocle)

Philippe Jaroussky - Misero pargoletto

A. Caldara: Misero pargoletto (Demofoonte)

A. Caldara: Lo seguitai felice (L'Olimpiade)

A. Caldara: Mentre dormi amor fomenti (L'Olimpiade)

A. Caldara: Opprimete i contumaci (La clemenza di Tito)

The Holly King

The Holly King

By Amine
Hidden deep in forests dark gloom,
Will you find a special, secret room,
Walls of trees, overhead branches loom,
Like some strange Hall or wooden tomb!
In the center stands great blaze,
Into the air, the flames do raise,
Painting all with deep bronze glaze,
Lighting all in these dark days!
Laid on tables, oh so wide,
Feast of fruits down each side,
Forest dwellers with hooded eyes,
At this feast are all now spied!
Beyond feasting tables lies a large throne,
Made from wood and bone and stone,
Over all of it the Ivy has now grown,
On top of it the snow now hath blown!
Sat in Throne looking so very fine,
With eyes so brown that they do shine,
Lined face of beauty, so benign,
How could he be thought so malign?
Frost lies coating Old Man's beard,
He is One who's coming is feared,
The land below He has cleared,
As with snow it is now smeared!
Winter is a much needed part of life,
Cold months with all their desperate strife,
Hunger abounds and is now rife,
As it cuts at belly like sharp knife!
He is Winter incarnate, Holly King,
He doth death and cold now bring,
Yet in depths of midwinter do we sing,
Of returning Sun, of coming Spring!
Dark half of the year doth He rule,
From summer heat to frost so cruel,
Yet think him not some kind of fool,
His reign doth end at coming Yule!
He does no more than play his part,
Coating world with His works of arte,
Then for other lands he doth depart,
As growing season does now restart!
To his brother he does now atone,
As Oak King now doth take the Throne,
Once more his solar might is now known,
And once more are the crops now grown!

Poet Unknown

By: Amine 

The poet is the impatient novelist
Turning paragraph into phrases
Telling the story without the words
Two sides of the self: only the emotion.
How do you split your voice?
You are your voice
To split it is to split yourself
In half
Violently
Cruelly
An unforgivable act separating me from she.
So many aspects of me
Wandering aimlessly
In the dark abyss of mind
You ask me to separate
Already done
I was never whole
I do not write whole
I do not see whole
I do not know
Anything.
I think, that is it.
I think, not do, not say, not see
I think.
Sometimes wait
Sometimes dream
Always think
"if our dead were here they would save us"