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  • Glenn Sonnenberg

Musings from the Bunker 5/2/20

Happy Saturday!

Here is the weekly dose of music and poetry. Have a great weekend!

 

MUSIC

This, from the Cory Band, will wake you up with a smile (hi ho and away!):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEMbmvsAg8U

Remember Eric Carmen? Appropriately, “All By Myself”: https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/coronavirus-isolation-playlist-969954/

Finally, the attached clip is a pretty remarkable rendition of “Nesum Dorma” from “America’s Got Talent.” Thanks, Paul Kanin, for providing it.

 

POETRY

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Robert Frost, 1874-1963

Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.


My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.


He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.


The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,


And miles to go before I sleep.

 

A LITTLE NONSENSE

Bonus Poem, just because it still makes me smile:

THE JABBERWOCKY, by Lewis Carroll

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.


“Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!”


He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought– So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought.


And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came!


One two! One two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back.


“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy.


‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.


Have a frabjous day,


Glenn

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