Category Archives: songs/poetry

non, je ne regrette rien

If “La Vie en Rose” is playing in a theater near you, I highly recommend that you watch it. It’s well-crafted, well-acted, and quite moving. A biopic about French singer Edith Piaf, it’s not hagiographic. She was certainly human: selfish, addicted to drugs and alcohol, etc. But she also experienced enormous tragedy: her only child dying, several traumatic relationships, a childhood spent in her grandmother’s brothel, singing on the streets to earn money for food & booze. Though the film doesn’t touch on her resistance work during WWII, that’s also an important element of her fame and fiery spirit.

The film is non-chronological, which works well in this case as it contrasts her youthful disappointments, her meteoric rise to fame, and then her physical decline from chronic & terminal disease in her late 40s. For me, the overarching theme of the film was for Piaf to actually ‘live’ her music rather than just belting out pretty songs. By the end, when she is onstage in what will be a final heroic rendition of her song “Non, Je ne Regrette Rien”, you can see that she really owns the song. It is pure Edith Piaf, with all of her flaws, singing of the richness of her life. Here’s a quick youtube vid of her performing the song following these translated lyrics…

Translated from the French
No! No regrets
No! I will have no regrets
All the things
That went wrong
For at last I have learned to be strong

No! No regrets
No! I will have no regrets
For the grief doesn’t last
It is gone
I’ve forgotten the past

And the memories I had
I no longer desire
Both the good and the bad
I have flung in a fire
And I feel in my heart
That the seed has been sown
It is something quite new
It’s like nothing I’ve known

No! No regrets
No! I will have no regrets
All the things that went wrong
For at last I have learned to be strong

No! No regrets
No! I will have no regrets
For the seed that is new
It’s the love that is growing for you

it’s (kiss me now) spring!

when faces called flowers float out of the ground…

when faces called flowers float out of the ground
and breathing is wishing and wishing is having-
but keeping is downward and doubting and never
-it’s april(yes,april;my darling)it’s spring!
yes the pretty birds frolic as spry as can fly
yes the little fish gambol as glad as can be
(yes the mountains are dancing together)

when every leaf opens without any sound
and wishing is having and having is giving-
but keeping is doting and nothing and nonsense
-alive;we’re alive,dear:it’s(kiss me now)spring!
now the pretty birds hover so she and so he
now the little fish quiver so you and so i
now the mountains are dancing, the mountains)

when more than was lost has been found has been found
and having is giving and giving is living-
but keeping is darkness and winter and cringing
-it’s spring(all our night becomes day)o,it’s spring!
all the pretty birds dive to the heart of the sky
all the little fish climb through the mind of the sea
all the mountains are dancing;are dancing)
–e.e.cummings
[hat tip to 37 days for the poem above]

Whenever I touch a velvet rose


peace, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Picture: a rose with yellow petals, tinged with pink and red at the edges.

“My Heavenly Father Loves Me” was my all-time favorite Primary song when I was a little girl. One reason I loved it was because each time we sang it Miss Tammy would choose a handful of kids to hold pictures representing the images of the song: a bird, a rain shower, etc. and I would raise my hand high, hoping to be one of the children chosen to for the special job of holding a picture while we sang.

It seems fitting to me that even now when I contemplate the song of a bird or the breeze rustling through the trees I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the beauty of the world and I feel closer to the divine.

Whenever I hear, the song of a bird
Or look at the blue, blue sky
Whenever I feel the rain on my face
Or the wind as it rushes by
Whenever I touch a velvet rose
Or walk by a lilac tree
I’m glad that I live in this beautiful world
Heavenly Father created for me.

my hands are small I know

Heard Jewel’s “Hands” this morning as I was taking the kids to school. It was powerful for me, especially these lyrics:

We’ll fight, not out of spite
For someone must stand up for what’s right
‘Cause where there’s a man who has no voice
There ours shall go singing
My hands are small I know
But they’re not yours, they are my own
But they’re not yours, they are my own
I am never broken
In the end only kindness matters

I won’t be broken again….

This is one of those days I probably should stay away from my computer. When I feel so raw and tired of being open. And I’m. just. tired. Tired, I say.

This song, especially the refrain that I’ve put in bold type, was going through my head at Meeting this morning:

Going Under, by Evanescence
Now I will tell you what I’ve done for you
50 thousand tears I’ve cried
Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you
And you still won’t hear me
Don’t want your hand this time, I’ll save myself
Maybe I’ll wake up for once
Not tormented…Daily defeated by you
Just when I thought I’d reached the bottom

I’m dying again…

I’m going under
Drowning in you
I’m falling forever
I’ve got to break through
I’m going under

Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies
So I don’t know what’s real and what’s not
Always confusing the thoughts in my head
So I can’t trust myself anymore

I’m dying again

So go on and scream
Scream at me
I’m so far away
I won’t be broken again
I’ve got to breathe
I can’t keep going under

The video for this song is a bit creepy, but if you’re not familiar with the tune, you might enjoy watching it (then again, maybe not, as it is pretty dark like a Buffy episode). I like the parts where she’s singing underwater–as someone who often feels more “right” in the water than on land, it works for me. The water part starts at 1:57 for those who want to skip straight to it,

The other song going through my head today has a video that’s definitely worth watching.

Are there times in your life when you’re just not “ready to make nice” to please someone else? What do you do? Sometimes I hide in the dark house with the drapes closed or go to my garden. Sometimes I scream. Or clean house. Or just roll into a ball and cry.

a month late…

From today’s episode of “The Writer’s Almanac“

February

Winter. Time to eat fat
and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,
a black fur sausage with yellow
Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries
to get onto my head. It’s his
way of telling whether or not I’m dead.
If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am
He’ll think of something. He settles
on my chest, breathing his breath
of burped-up meat and musty sofas,
purring like a washboard. Some other tomcat,
not yet a capon, has been spraying our front door,
declaring war. It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run. Some cat owners around here
should snip a few testicles. If we wise
hominids were sensible, we’d do that too,
or eat our young, like sharks.
But it’s love that does us in. Over and over
Again, He shoots, he scores! and famine
crouches in the bedsheets, ambushing the pulsing
eiderdown, and the windchill factor hits
thirty below, and the pollution pours
out of our chimneys to keep us warm.
February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.
I think dire thoughts, and lust for French fries
with a splash of vinegar.
Cat, enough of your greedy whining
and your small pink bumhole.
Off my face! You’re the life principle,
more or less, so get going
on a little optimism around here.
Get rid of death. Celebrate increase. Make it be spring.
~Margaret Atwood

A Poem: Seeing Stones

“Every man who lived on the earth,” Joseph said to them, “was entitled to a seer stone, and should have one, but they are kept from them in consequence of their wickedness, and most of those who do find one make evil use of it.” (Brigham Young’s journal, as quoted in Latter-day Millennial Star, 26:118,119)


It was the nights when Dad would have kidney stones that he would call me in
To sit at his bedside to pray.
I was the family healer, set apart in my partriarchal blessing when I was twelve
To have the power to be healed and to heal others on their behalf

I would sit and hold Dad’s hand and ask God
and he would breathe deep and say
Thanks Jan, the pain, it’s better now

But how when it got so bad and the doctors didn’t know why because the stones, they couldn’t see them
I fasted and prayed my healing prayer
And the answer
A time to die
And then the MRI, it showed cancer. Pancreatic. Uncurable.

***

Dad’s college buddy, Dave, he called today.
I’d run in to him at Sunstone, recognized him from the funeral
Asked him for stories about Dad
Dave said Dad was curious about seer stones. That a girl brought her family’s stone to their Institute class.
Dave put it in his black felt hat and they had tried to see.

I asked Dave about Dad’s testimony. Did he always believe?
He told me of Dad’s mission to the Western States. Dad was dark and could pass for native
Went to a kiva ceremony and had a manifestation–a Navajo blanket the veil, drawn back and the heavens opened.
That after that he wondered but never wavered.

I am angry now that I didn’t know this Dad.
He never told me the dream stories that Dave tells now.
Premonitions, knowing, seeing.

***

When I was young Dad stopped at all of the rock shops along the summer route to Utah. I liked the rose crystals, bright pyrite, peacock ores.
Dad looked, too, but I don’t know what caught his eye.

Dave says the seer stones give a psychological closeness to the Spirit, remove earthly barriers
I see myself, a rock-gatherer
They roll on the floor of my car, mark the bagua of my home, circle the herbs in my garden.
I see myself, a healer

Without
the power to be healed
Pondering my Father’s stones
Lacking vision

~Jana, 6/2005

In a revelation from god, Joseph Smith reveals how those who attain glory in the afterlife will receive a seer stone of their own: Then the white stone mentioned in Revelation 2:17, will become a Urim and Thummim to each individual who receives one, whereby things pertaining to a higher order of kingdoms will be made known. And a white stone is given to each of those who come into the celestial kingdom, whereon is a new name written, which no man knoweth save he that receiveth it. The new name is the key word. (Doctrine and Covenants 130:10-11)

Elephant Loves

May I highly recommend the latest Speaking of Faith podcast with an interview with Quaker biologist Katy Payne.

Katy is also the author of Silent Thunder. Katy was the first biologist to discover that elephants communicate with each other over long distances through sounds that humans can’t hear. Katy attributes her findings to her ability to “listen” to silence, as she learned in Silent Worship with Friends.

Her podcast speaks of her research with whales, the environmental degredation in Africa, death, depression,and what we all can do to help preserve the biodiversity of our world. And it’s just breathtakingly beautiful.