BLUEBIRD   by Charles Bukowski there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you. there’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette… Read More From BLACKBIRD to BLUEBIRD

There are a few Italian legends that say the last three days of January (29, 30, 31) are the coldest days of winter, thanks to the actions of a female bird. (1) Long, long ago in Milan there was a very hard winter and snow covered the whole city. Under the eaves of a building… Read More THE DAYS OF THE BLACKBIRD (I giorni della merla)

My sweet Lord Hm, my Lord Hm, my Lord I really want to see you Really want to be with you Really want to see you Lord But it takes so long, my Lord My sweet Lord Hm, my Lord Hm, my Lord I really want to know you Really want to go with you… Read More MY SWEET LORD

Something in the way she moves Attracts me like no other lover Something in the way she woos me I don’t want to leave her now You know I believe and how Somewhere in her smile she knows That I don’t need no other lover Something in her style that shows me I don’t want… Read More SOMETHING

Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say, It’s all right Little darling It’s been a long, cold lonely winter Little darling It feels like years since it’s been here Here comes the sun Here comes the sun, and I say, It’s all right Little darling The smiles returning to the faces… Read More HERE COMES THE SUN

The Chimney Sweeper – by William Blake ( from Songs of Experience) A little black thing among the snow, Crying “‘weep! ‘weep!” in notes of woe! “Where are thy father and mother? Say!”– “They are both gone up to the church to pray. “Because I was happy upon the heath, And smiled among the winter’s… Read More Sweep ->Weep (THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER)

Lezione del 26 gennaio incentrata su GEORGE HARRISON, the quiet Beatle While My Guitar Gently Weeps I look at you all, see the love there that’s sleeping While my guitar gently weeps I look at the floor and I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps I don’t know why nobody told you… Read More WHILE MY GUITAR GENTLY WEEPS

From : The Evening Star (The love sonnet dedicated by H. W. Longfellow to his wife, Fanny Appleton) ….O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus! My morning and my evening star of love! My best and gentlest lady! even thus, As that fair planet in the sky above, Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night,… Read More from: THE EVENING STAR

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – 1845 I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight. I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so… Read More THE ARROW AND THE SONG