When I joined Granada - which, you don't want to start crying about these things, but Granada was a very, very hot place to be, it was my good fortune to be there at that time - the BBC was firmly asleep.
quote by Michael Apted
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
El Crimen Fue En Granada
I
Se le vio, caminando entre fusiles,
por una calle larga,
salir al campo frío,
aún con estrellas, de la madrugada.
Mataron a Federico
cuando la luz asomaba.
El pelotón de verdugos
no osó mirarle la cara.
Todos cerraron los ojos;
rezaron: ¡ni Dios te salva!
Muerto cayó Federico.
-sangre en la frente y plomo en las entrañas-.
…Que fue en Granada el crimen
sabed -¡pobre Granada!-, en su Granada…
II
EL POETA Y LA MUERTE
Se le vio caminar solo con Ella,
sin miedo a su guadaña.
Ya el sol en torre y torre; los martillos
en yunque - yunque y yunque de las fraguas.
Hablaba Federico,
requebrando a la muerte. Ella escuchaba.
'Porque ayer en mi verso, compañera,
sonaba el golpe de tus secas palmas,
y diste el hielo a mi cantar, y el filo
a mi tragedia de tu hoz de plata,
te cantaré la carne que no tienes,
los ojos que te faltan,
tus cabellos que el viento sacudía,
los rojos labios donde te besaban…
Hoy como ayer, gitana, muerte mía,
qué bien contigo a solas,
por estos aires de Granada, ¡mi Granada!'
III
Se le vio caminar..
Labrad, amigos,
de piedra y sueño, en el Alhambra,
un túmulo al poeta,
sobre una fuente donde llore el agua,
y eternamente diga:
el crimen fue en Granada, ¡en su Granada!
poem by Antonio Machado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I want the Arabic Granada, that which is art, which is all that seems to me beauty and emotion.
quote by Isaac Albeniz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Held mig! Granada jeg seer
Held mig! Granada jeg seer,
Mindernes selsomme By!
Rom Du ligner deri,
her strax man føler sig hjemme.
Bjergene rundt om har Snee,
Himlen ikke en Sky.
Fra Alamedaen smukt
klinger Gitanaens Stemme,
Øinene blaae som i Nord,
sneehvide Blomster i Haaret.
Havfruens Skjønhed og Blik!
— Vandrer! er alt Du bedaaret?
II
Ja havblaae er hendes Øine,
men Haaret som Skovsneglens Skind;
Gjennem Øinene seer man
lige i Tankerne ind.
Hun er saa fast som en Drue,
Munden et Væld med Kys,
Om Tonedybet derinde
havde en Drøm jeg nys;
Over os glødende Æbler
i hvert Granattræ hang; -
En salomonisk Høisang
Hjertet om Sulamith sang.
III
I Granada er det Maaneskin,
saa klart, at Hver man kjender,
Dog Vægteren gaaer med Lygte,
og Lyset i Lygten brænder.
Hvad søger han efter? Han søger
vel Solen, der skal staae op.
Imellem Bladenes Bolstrer
en Drømmeverden er lagt;
Du Rose, bliv mit Alhambra,
med hende jeg boer i din Pragt,
Og vi ere unge —! imorgen
da falder hvert Rosenblad.
Vær Du min Erindring, skrinlagt
i dette smuldrende Qvad.
IV
Jeg leve vil i Granada,
der Phantasus reiste sit Slot;
Men nede i Malaga grav mig
en Grav ved Havet saa blaat,
Saa udstrakt, svulmende herligt;
høit synger den rullende Sø.
I Norden jeg skar i en Græstørv
mit Navn paa den danske Ø,
Snart voxer Græsset derover,
alle Minderne døe!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Siege and Conquest of Alhama
The Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
Letters to the monarch tell
How Alhama's city fell:
In the fire the scroll he threw,
And the messenger he slew.
Woe is me, Albamal
He quits his mule, and mounts his horse,
And through the street directs his course;
Through the street of Zacatin
To the Alhambra spurring in.
Woe is me, Alhama!
When the Alhambra walls he gain'd,
On the moment he ordain'd
That the trumpet straight should sound
With the silver clarion round.
Woe is me, Alhamal
And when the hollow drums of war
Beat the loud alarm afar,
That the Moors of town and plain
Might answer to the martial strain.
Woe is me, Alhama!
Then the Moors, by this aware,
That bloody Mars recall'd them there,
One by one, and two by two,
To a mighty squadron grew.
Woe is me, Alhama!
Out then spake an aged Moor
In these words the king before,
'Wherefore call on us, oh King?
What may mean this gathering?'
Woe is me, Alhama!
'Friends! ye have, alas! to know
Of a most disastrous blow;
That the Christians, stern and bold,
Have obtain'd Alhama's hold.'
Woe is me, Alhama!
Out then spake old Alfaqui,
With his beard so white to see,
'Good King! thou art justly served,
Good King! this thou hast deserved.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'By thee were slain, in evil hour,
The Abencerrage, Granada's flower;
And strangers were received by thee
Of Cordova the Chivalry.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'And for this, oh King! is sent
On thee a double chastisement:
Thee and thine, thy crown and realm,
One last wreck shall overwhelm.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'He who holds no laws in awe,
He must perish by the law;
And Granada must be won,
And thyself with her undone.'
Woe is me, Alhama!
Fire crashed from out the old Moor's eyes,
The Monarch's wrath began to rise,
Because he answer'd, and because
He spake exceeding well of laws.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'There is no law to say such things
As may disgust the ear of kings:
'Thus, snorting with his choler, said
The Moorish King, and doom'd him dead.
Woe is me, Alhama!
Moor Alfaqui! Moor Alfaqui!
Though thy beard so hoary be,
The King hath sent to have thee seized,
For Alhama's loss displeased.
Woe is me, Alhama!
And to fix thy head upon
High Alhambra's loftiest stone;
That thus for thee should be the law,
And others tremble when they saw.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'Cavalier, and man of worth!
Let these words of mine go forth!
Let the Moorish Monarch know,
That to him I nothing owe.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'But on my soul Alhama weighs,
And on my inmost spirit preys;
And if the King his land hath lost,
Yet others may have lost the most.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'Sires have lost their children, wives
Their lords, and valiant men their lives!
One what best his love might claim
Hath lost, another wealth, or fame.
Woe is me, Alhama!
'I lost a damsel in that hour,
Of all the land the loveliest flower;
Doubloons a hundred I would pay,
And think her ransom cheap that day.'
Woe is me, Alhama!
And as these things the old Moor said,
They sever'd from the trunk his head;
And to the Alhambra's wall with speed
'Twas carried, as the King decreed.
Woe is me, Alhama!
And men and infants therein weep
Their loss, so heavy and so deep;
Granada's ladies, all she rears
Within her walls, burst into tears.
Woe is me, Alhama!
And from the windows o'er the walls
The sable web of mourning falls;
The King weeps as a woman o'er
His loss, for it is much and sore.
Woe is me, Alhama!
Men Of Good Fortune
Men of good fortune
Often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings
Often cant do anything at all
The rich son waits for his father to die
The poor just drink and cry
And me, I just dont care at all
Men of good fortune
Very often cant do a thing
While men of poor beginnings
Often can do anything
At heart they try to act like a man
Handle things the best way they can
They have no rich, daddy to fall back on
Men of good fortune
Often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings
Often cant do anything at all
It takes money to make money they say
Look at the fords, but didnt they start that way
Anyway, it makes no difference to me
Men of good fortune
Often wish that they could die
While men of poor beginnings
Want what they have and to get it theyll die
All those great things that live has to give
They wanna have money and live
But me, I just dont care at all
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Very Mournful Ballad On The Siege And Conquest Of Alhama
Which, in the Arabic language, is to the following purport:
I
THE Moorish King rides up and down,
Through Granada's royal town;
From Elvira's gate to those
Of Bivarambla on he goes.
Woe is me, Alhama!
II
Letters to the monarch tell
How Alhama's city fell:
In the fire the scroll he threw,
And the messenger he slew.
Woe is me, Albamal
III
He quits his mule, and mounts his horse,
And through the street directs his course;
Through the street of Zacatin
To the Alhambra spurring in.
Woe is me, Alhama!
IV
When the Alhambra walls he gain'd,
On the moment he ordain'd
That the trumpet straight should sound
With the silver clarion round.
Woe is me, Alhamal
V
And when the hollow drums of war
Beat the loud alarm afar,
That the Moors of town and plain
Might answer to the martial strain.
Woe is me, Alhama!
VI
Then the Moors, by this aware,
That bloody Mars recall'd them there,
One by one, and two by two,
To a mighty squadron grew.
Woe is me, Alhama!
VII
Out then spake an aged Moor
In these words the king before,
'Wherefore call on us, oh King?
What may mean this gathering?'
Woe is me, Alhama!
VIII
'Friends! ye have, alas! to know
Of a most disastrous blow;
That the Christians, stern and bold,
Have obtain'd Albania's hold.'
Woe is me, Alhama!
IX
Out then spake old Alfaqui,
With his beard so white to see,
'Good King! thou art justly served,
Good King! this thou hast deserved.
Woe is me, Alhama!
X
'By thee were slain, in evil hour,
The Abencerrage, Granada's flower;
And strangers were received by thee
Of Cordova the Chivalry.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XI
'And for this, oh King! is sent
On thee a double chastisement:
Thee and thine, thy crown and realm,
One last wreck shall overwhelm.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XII
'He who holds no laws in awe,
He must perish by the law;
And Granada must be won,
And thyself with her undone.'
Woe is me, Alhama!
XIII
Fire Crashed from out the old Moor's eyes,
The Monarch's wrath began to rise,
Because he answer'd, and because
He spake exceeding well of laws.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XIV
'There is no law to say such things
As may disgust the ear of kings:
'Thus, snorting with his choler, said
The Moorish King, and doom'd him dead.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XV
Moor Alfaqui! Moor Alfaqui!
Though thy beard so hoary be,
The King hath sent to have thee seized,
For Alhama's loss displeased.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XVI
And to fix thy head upon
High Alhambra's loftiest stone;
That thus for thee should be the law,
And others tremble when they saw.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XVII
'Cavalier, and man of worth!
Let these words of mine go forth!
Let the Moorish Monarch know,
That to him I nothing owe.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XVIII
'But on my soul Alhama weighs,
And on my inmost spirit preys;
And if the King his land hath lost,
Yet others may have lost the most.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XIX
'Sires have lost their children, wives
Their lords, and valiant men their lives!
One what best his love might claim
Hath lost, another wealth, or fame.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XX
'I lost a damsel in that hour,
Of all the land the loveliest flower;
Doubloons a hundred I would pay,
And think her ransom cheap that day.'
Woe is me, Alhama!
XXI
And as these things the old Moor said,
They sever'd from the trunk his head;
And to the Alhambra's wall with speed
'Twas carried, as the King decreed.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XXII
And men and infants therein weep
Their loss, so heavy and so deep;
Granada's ladies, all she rears
Within her walls, burst into tears.
Woe is me, Alhama!
XXIII
And from the windows o'er the walls
The sable web of mourning falls;
The King weeps as a woman o'er
His loss, for it is much and sore.
Woe is me, Alhama!
Driving to the Sun
From Paris
to the Costa del Sol
we drove
in my dilapidated convertible
in the springtime of our lives
down a long, straight Roman road
tunneling through pines
on into Spain
drifting through Madrid, Granada, Sevilla
then to Málaga
the top down
Colette and Serge
perched on the seat backs
waving to the earthbound
as we sailed through small towns
on our way to the sky.
poem by Richard Greene
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gary Granada’s definition of a house
A shanty of cartons as walls
Some tin for roof
Several cuttings of tin
And some worn out rubber tires
To keep the tin roofs
In place
Ten persons reside there
Too crowded
Smell of dead fish
Smell of decayed fish
And dried urine
Rodent and human urine
Hotter than the
Temperatures of
An Arizona desert
Patches of wasted wood
Planks of leftovers
Undefined window frames
There is no comfort
Room or living
Room or bed or
Sala
Every floor
Every patch
Is a bed, a room,
A kitchen
All in one
For ten people or more
Is this what you call a house?
Gary Granada is singing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crying
I was all right for a while
I could smile for a while
But when I saw you last night
You held my hand so tight
When you stopped to say hello
And though you wished me well
You couldn't tell
That I'd been crying over you, crying over you
Then you said so long
and left me standing all alone
Alone and crying, crying, crying, crying
It's hard to understand
That the touch of your hand
Can start me crying
I thought that I was over you
But it's true, so true
I love you even more than I did before
But darling, what can I do?
You don't love me
And I'll always be crying over you, crying over you
Yes, now you're gone
And from this moment on
I'll be crying, crying, crying, crying
I'm crying, crying over you
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crying
Roy orbison
Roy: i was all right for a while
I could smile for a while
Kd: but i saw you last night
You held my hand so tight
When you stopped to say hello
Roy: you wished me well
You couldn't tell that
I've been crying over you,
Crying over you and you said "so long"
Left me standing all alone,
Alone and crying, crying, crying, crying
It's hard to understand
Kd: but the touch of your hand can start me crying
Roy: i thought that i was over you
But it's true, so true
I love you even more than i did before
But darling, what can i do?
For you don't love me
Kd: and i'll always be
Crying over you, crying over you
Roy: yes now you're gone
Both: and from this moment on, i'll be crying, crying, crying, crying
Yeah, crying, crying over you
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Arabesque
On a background of pale gold
I would trace with quaint design,
Penciled fine,
Brilliant-colored, Moorish scenes,
Mosques and crescents, pages, queens,
Line on line,
That the prose-world of to-day
Might the gorgeous Past's array
Once behold.
On the magic painted shield
Rich Granada's Vega green
Should be seen;
Crystal fountains, coolness flinging,
Hanging gardens' skyward springing
Emerald sheen;
Ruddy when the daylight falls,
Crowned Alhambra's beetling walls
Stand revealed;
Balconies that overbrow
Field and city, vale and stream.
In a dream
Lulled the drowsy landscape basks;
Mark the gleam
Silvery of each white-swathed peak!
Mountain-airs caress the cheek,
Fresh from the snow.
Here in Lindaraxa's bower
The immortal roses bloom;
In the room
Lion-guarded, marble-paven,
Still the fountain leaps to heaven.
But the doom
Of the banned and stricken race
Overshadows every place,
Every hour.
Where fair Lindaraxa dwelt
Flits the bat on velvet wings;
Mute the strings
Of the broken mandoline;
The Pavilion of the Queen
Widely flings
Vacant windows to the night;
Moonbeams kiss the floor with light
Where she knelt.
Through these halls that people stepped
Who through darkling centuries
Held the keys
Of all wisdom, truth, and art,
In a Paradise apart,
Lapped in ease,
Sagely pondering deathless themes,
While, befooled with monkish dreams,
Europe slept.
Where shall they be found today?
Yonder hill that frets the sky
'The last Sigh
Of the Moor' is named still.
There the ill-starred Boabdil
Bade good-by
To Granada and to Spain,
Where the Crescent ne'er again
Holdeth sway.
Vanished like the wind that blows,
Whither shall we seek their trace
On earth's face?
The gigantic wheel of fate,
Crushing all things soon or late,
Now a race,
Now a single life o'erruns,
Now a universe of suns,
Now a rose.
poem by Emma Lazarus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Expensive Chair - Its A Beautiful Thing B-side
Your face is looking like
Someone you forgot you used to know
You were looking for rhymes and reason
They forgot the things you used to know
You came to rely on good fortune
Your mothers screaming low
With the sky in the eye
And jump through the window
Youve made your own room at the top
Well its getting thin on air
Still you look at me from your most expensive chair
And when youre feeling fit to drop
And you find theres no one there
Still you look at me from your most expensive chair
You dont wanna shout about it
When theres nothing you care to know
Your friends they just laugh about it
In the places that you never go
You cannot deny your good fortune
Your friends they wont let go
See your hair is in place
And see away from the window
Repeat chorus
Youre the judge how high it hangs
When your castles made of sand
Because the people who kill the king
Are the people who move from within
You cant rely on good fortune
Your friends are crying low
Kick your feet from the chair
And let it slip from the gallow
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crying
Lyrics and music by roy orbison and joe melson
I was alright for awhile
I could smile for awhile
But I saw you last night
You held my hand so tight
As you stopped to say hello oh you wished me well
You couldnt tell that Id been
Crying over you
Crying over you
When you said, so long
Left me standing all alone
Alone and crying
Crying, crying, crying, crying
Its hard to understand
How the touch of your hand
Can start me crying
I thought that I was over you
But its true, oh so true
I love you even more
Than I did bfore
But darling what can I do?
For you dont love me
And Ill always be
Crying for you
Crying for you
Yes now youre gone
And from this moment on
Ill be crying, crying, crying, crying
Yes crying
Crying
Over you
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Morning, Good Morning
Nothing to do to save his life call his wife in
Nothing to say but what a day how's your boy been
Nothing to do it's up to you
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
Going to work don't want to go feeling low down
Heading for home you start to roam then you're in town
Everybody knows there's nothing doing
Everything is closed it's like a ruin
Everyone you see is half asleep.
And you're on your own you're in the street
Good morning, good morning...
After a while you start to smile now you feel cool.
Then you decide to take a walk by the old school.
Nothing has changed it's still the same
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
People running round it's five o'clock.
Everywhere in town is getting dark.
Everyone you see is full of life.
It's time for tea and meet the wife.
Somebody needs to know the time, glad that i'm here.
Watching the skirts you start to flirt now you're in gear.
Go to a show you hope she goes.
I've got nothing to say but it's o.k.
Good morning, good morning...
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Same Place, Same Time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
The coffee’s hot
And the company is good
Conversation flows, as it should
A joke or two
And when all is said and done
We’re right back to where we begun
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
These crowded streets
I balance tight roped on the curb
Car screeches past, a scream is heard
De ja vu
Yes I’ve been here before
Time moves slowly as traffic stalls
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Break
It was good
You were sublime
I’m so glad that we spent the time
Time is short
What we have is rare
Love is oxygen with you there
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Same place, same time
Copyright 2006 (updated 2010)
poem by Colin Coplin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cryin'
I was all right for a while
I could smile for a while
Then I saw you last night
You held my hand so tight
When you stopped to say hello
You wished me well, you couldn't tell
That I'd been crying over you
Crying over you
Then you said so long and left me standing all alone
Alone and crying
Crying, crying, crying
It's hard to understand
That the touch of your hand
Can start me crying
I thought that I was over you
But it's true, so true
I love you even more than I did before
But darling, what can I do?
You don't love me, and I'll always be
Crying over you
Crying over you
Yes, now you're gone
And from this moment on
I'll be crying, crying ----- over you
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good Fortune
They say to celebrate
you should raise a glass or two,
but if you do not drink
that is something hard to do.
Instead, you can toast
by raising a cup of tea
and light several candles
for the more misfortunate
than you,
and then thank god
for bringing good fortune
to you.
Good fortune may not be money
to line your pockets well.
Good fortune might be the joy
of triumphing over adversity,
or it could be
getting over your fears.
Whatever good fortune
means to you.
You must celebrate
with happiness
and share your good fortune
with everyone
you will meet.
19 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Savin Up
You may have diamonds
You may have pearls
You may think you got it baby
Over all the other girls
But honey you aint got nothing
And Ill tell you why
If youre empty as a soul can be, baby
Deep down inside
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You may have a big backyard
And ruby rings
And my loves just a second-place runner, honey
To your fancy things
But what you got to hold on to
When the lights go down
You come lookin for me baby
But I aint nowhere around
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start
You need a strong man, baby
To love and understand you
A man who aint afraid, sugar
To get some dirt on his hands for you
And when youre feeling so down-hearted
And all you wanna do is cry
Ah, just come on, take my hand, baby
Together you and i
We could start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
Wed better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
You better start savin up
For the things that money cant buy
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Granada, gjennem Byen
I Granada, gjennem Byen,
Sorgfuld drager Maurerkongen;
Fra Elviras Port han rider
Hen til Porten Bivarrambla.
Vee mig, mit Alhama.
Breve vare komne til ham,
At han havde tabt Alhama;
Brevene han smed til Jorden,
Den, som bragte dem, han dræbte.
Vee mig, mit Alhama!
Og han steg ned af sit Muuldyr,
Satte sig paa Hesten, red saa
Til Alhambra, lod der skingre
Sølvtrompet og Kjedeltromme.
Vee mig, mit Alhama!"
„Kun din Ret skeer Dig, o Konge!
Du fortjente værre Skjæbne."
„Som Du Alhama har mistet,
Miste skal Du snart dit Rige!
Vee mig, mit Alhama!"
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Beginning
The whole worlds broke and it aint worth fixing
Its time to start all over, make a new beginning
Theres too much pain, too much suffering
Lets resolve to start all over make a new beginning
Now dont get me wrong - I love life and living
But when you wake up and look around at everything thats going down -
All wrong
You see we need to change it now, this world with too few happy endings
We can resolve to start all over make a new beginning
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
The world is broken into fragments and pieces
That once were joined together in a unified whole
But now too many stand alone - theres too much separation
We can resolve to come together in the new beginning
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
We can break the cycle - we can break the chain
We can start all over - in the new beginning
We can learn, we can teach
We can share the myths the dream the prayer
The notion that we can do better
Change our lives and paths
Create a new world and
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
The whole worlds broke and it aint worth fixing
Its time to start all over, make a new beginning
Theres too much fighting, too little understanding
Its time to stop and start all over
Make a new beginning
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over
We need to make new symbols
Make new signs
Make a new language
With these well define the world
And start all over
Start all over
Start all over
Start all over ...
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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