What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger: And Still I Rise! @poetry @ThePoetryPorn

From long-standing friend Naomi Calligaro who keeps feeding my spirit with inspirational sayings, pictures and poems – despite seven arrests, three hate crimes, no pension payments since May 2015, six court proceedings ending with Police having ‘No Case to Answer’, i.e. the two of us ‘not guilty’ of conspiracy to intimidate witnesses, resulting in internet cables being cut, and a ‘Restraining Order’ not to make public any allegations. Do innocent, law-abiding people behave like that?

Maya Angelou “And Still I Rise”

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Rossini’s Calumny Aria sung in the original Italian





Rossini’s Calumny Aria sung in English


Gioachino Rossini – Il barbiere di Siviglia – “La calunnia e un venticello” (Peter Rose) (in English)

Gioachino Rossini – Il barbiere di Siviglia – “La calunnia e un ventic…

Ah, the Calumny aria, another wonderful bass aria…


La calunnia

La calunnia è un venticello
un’auretta assai gentile
che insensibile, sottile,
leggermente, dolcemente,
incomincia a sussurrar.

Piano piano, terra terra,
sotto voce, sibilando,
va scorrendo, va ronzando;
nelle orecchie della gente
s’introduce destramente,
e le teste ed i cervelli
fa stordire e fa gonfiar.

Dalla bocca fuori uscendo,
lo schiamazzo va crescendo:
prende forza a poco a poco,
vola già di loco in loco.

Sembra il tuono, la tempesta
che nel sen della foresta,
va fischiando, brontolando,
e ti fa d’orror gelar.

Alla fin trabocca e scoppia,
si propaga, si raddoppia
e produce un’esplosione
come un colpo di cannone,
un tremuoto, un temporale,
[un tumulto generale]
che fa l’aria rimbombar.

E il meschino calunniato,
avvilito, calpestato,
sotto il pubblico flagello
per gran sorte va a crepar.

English translation

The Calumny

The calumny is a little wind,
a very gentle little breeze
which numbly, softly,
lightly, kindly,
begins to whisper.

Little by little, mildly,
in a low voice, hissing,
it goes flowing, it goes buzzing;
in people’s ears
it enters deftly
and makes heads and brains
stun and blow.

Getting out from the mouth
the clamour grows:
it slowly strenghtens,
it already flies from one place to another.

It seems like the thunder, like the storm
that in the depht of the forest
go whistling, grumbling,
and makes your blood run cold.

In the end it spills over and blow up,
it spreads, it doubles
and provokes an explosion
like a cannon shot,
an earthquake, a rain storm,
a general tumult
which makes the air peal.

And the miserable one who is defamed,
degraded, trampled,
scourged by the public opinion
fortunately dies.


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