Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Reasonfactory Soundbank Iso

an old! (Viet Nam) * This

I would like to share with you a letter I received this morning that Mỹ Tuyet gave me permission to post as such:
Hello Cam Sa
We lost contact for decades already, you realize! Location've come to see me during his last stay, and it has awakened so many memories. She really kicks of emotion for both the memories that passes through the pain she has to pick me up ... What wilt thou become
? I heard you're in the U.S.. For my part I my small family with 2 boys, whose groin is in the final year in the United States. I work in education, having taken over from my mother for our little kindergarten. My husband is also in education.
I'll pass you a quick note to say hello and to tell you that the idea of agreeing a meeting of our promotion is excellent.
Pass hello from me to all friends who are on your network and healthy for you and your family. My
Phan Tuyet
I'm so glad we made great progress, thanks to everyone, to connect our links! Our network becomes big day. What is it that we done without the Internet?

I finished a poem that takes me back many memories. It's not my fault if the sisters taught me to love poetry and especially Baudelaire.

The bottle is strong perfumes for all material that is porous
. It seems that they penetrate the glass.
By opening a box from the East
whose lock creaks and Rechin shouting,

Or in some deserted house cabinets
Full of pungent odor of time, and black powder,
Sometimes one finds an old bottle who remembers, Whence springs
a living soul who returns.

Mille thoughts were sleeping, pupae funeral
Trembling slowly in the heavy darkness,
Who release their wings and take flight,
azure tint, frosted pink, gold lamé.

intoxicating is the recall that hovers in the air
disturbed, the eyes close; Vertigo
Seizes the soul defeated and pushed with both hands
Towards a darkened abyss of human miasma;

He side terrace an ancient abyss, Where
, stinking Lazarus tearing his shroud,
It moves in its wake the dead spectral
On old love rancid, charming and chilling.

Thus, when I am lost to memory
men in the corner of a sinister cabinet
When tossed, old bottle sorry
Decrepit, dusty, dirty, despicable, slimy, cracked

I'll be your coffin, Mable has pestilence!
The witness your strength and your virulence,
Dear poison prepared by the angels, liquor
Who eats me, O life and death of my heart!

Charles Baudelaire


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