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This is my reading of “COLOURS”by the famous Russian poet YEVGENY YEVTUSHENKO.
For a while I had thought of doing an EMBER (famous DRAKONIS ambient piece) and this poem fit the length as well as the mood. I know little about this poet, but here is my quite imaginary take: He is a poor, lonely writer, living in a crummy room where he spends his days lost in thoughts and words. At a concert he meets a beautiful ballerina, who falls in love with his hauntingly sad countenance and clumsy innocence. He adores her, but knows he cannot sustain this love, as he is a loner and cannot fit into the high society life she leads. His awe is mingled with dread, for he knows his time with her will be short.
For the real picture of his life, read here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yevgeny_Yevtushenko
Many thanks to Drakonis for his most excellent tech assistance, and for composing the original Ember, which can be found on his page:
http://www.macjams.com/artist/drakonis
For a while I had thought of doing an EMBER (famous DRAKONIS ambient piece) and this poem fit the length as well as the mood. I know little about this poet, but here is my quite imaginary take: He is a poor, lonely writer, living in a crummy room where he spends his days lost in thoughts and words. At a concert he meets a beautiful ballerina, who falls in love with his hauntingly sad countenance and clumsy innocence. He adores her, but knows he cannot sustain this love, as he is a loner and cannot fit into the high society life she leads. His awe is mingled with dread, for he knows his time with her will be short.
For the real picture of his life, read here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yevgeny_Yevtushenko
Many thanks to Drakonis for his most excellent tech assistance, and for composing the original Ember, which can be found on his page:
http://www.macjams.com/artist/drakonis
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Lyrics
Colours - by Yevgeny Yevtushenko
When your face appeared
over my crumpled life
at first I understood
only the poverty of what I have.
Then its particular light
on woods, on rivers, on the sea,
became my beginning in the coloured world
in which I had not yet had my beginning.
I am so frightened, I am so frightened,
of the unexpected sunrise finishing,
of revelations and tears
and the excitement finishing.
I don't fight it, my love is this fear,
I nourish it who can nourish nothing,
love's slipshod watchman.
Fear hems me in.
I am conscious that these minutes are short
and that the colours in my eyes will vanish
when your face sets.
When your face appeared
over my crumpled life
at first I understood
only the poverty of what I have.
Then its particular light
on woods, on rivers, on the sea,
became my beginning in the coloured world
in which I had not yet had my beginning.
I am so frightened, I am so frightened,
of the unexpected sunrise finishing,
of revelations and tears
and the excitement finishing.
I don't fight it, my love is this fear,
I nourish it who can nourish nothing,
love's slipshod watchman.
Fear hems me in.
I am conscious that these minutes are short
and that the colours in my eyes will vanish
when your face sets.
drakonis
This is really astounding, for several reasons. First of all, your careful additions of strings starts right off giving this an intentionally awkward uneasy feel, perfect for the poem to follow. Then your reading of this is very well done... the almost whispered tentativeness carries the emotions nicely. And the poem especially the last two lines, reminds me a bit of a poem I wrote long ago called "The Sunset"... I'll have to send it to you sometime for comparison. I'd never heard of him before, but I enjoyed reading the wikipedia article, especially about his short poem about the Amazon. What a wonderful poem, and so nicely framed in Ember. I still think the echo could have been turned up a little more on the clock ticking, but that's about all I can critique on this... Brava!
ttfn,
Drakonis