In response to "Now I want to know if Lydia has a rephyrgerator in her flat?".

No, she doesn't. This is a problem because now Lydia has no place to put the leftover Mixo soup which is an attraction to all the monkees. Meanwhile, Doria and freaky Phrygia are still busy figuring out whether they are same or not. There are rumours that it depends on the root. Unfortunately --- no rephrygerator = neither carrots nor celeriac. (Why did I even start this.)

No Rephrygerator

Extracts from The Ballad of the Harp-Weaver by Edna St Vincent Millay 1892-1950
Recital from LibriVox.org read by Linda Leu

“Son,” said my mother,
   When I was knee-high,
“You’ve need of clothes to cover you,
   And not a rag have I”.
 
“There’s nothing in the house
   To make a boy breeches,
Nor shears to cut a cloth with
   Nor thread to take stitches.”
 
“There’s nothing in the house
   But a loaf-end of rye,
And a harp with a woman’s head
   Nobody will buy,”  
   And she began to cry.
 
…

Men say the winter
   Was bad that year;
Fuel was scarce,
   And food was dear.
 
A wind with a wolf’s head
   Howled about our door,
And we burned up the chairs
   And sat on the floor.
 
All that was left us
   Was a chair we couldn’t break,
And the harp with a woman’s head
   Nobody would take,
   For song or pity’s sake.
 
…

Looking nineteen,
   And not a day older,
And the harp with a woman’s head
   Leaned against her shoulder.
 
Her thin fingers, moving
   In the thin, tall strings,
Were weav-weav-weaving
   Wonderful things.
 
Many bright threads,
   From where I couldn’t see,
Were running through the harp-strings
  Rapidly,
 
…

There sat my mother
   With the harp against her shoulder
Looking nineteen
   And not a day older,
 
A smile about her lips,
   And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
   Frozen dead.
 
And piled up beside her
   And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king’s son,
   Just my size.

The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver

Qui Est Là

I'm Working for An AI

Sometimes you have to break free from 'classical' strictures and do your own thing. 
Vocals, instrumental, arrangement, mix: Nadia Selvaggi
Music by Henry Purcell

Henry Purcell's Evening Hymn

Whimsical

Together Again

© Together Again

Jason - J.BoogZ Feat.PHZ TANX(produced By BoogBeatz)

360°

I was too young to understand love

a grey fog in my head, she counted sheep

Sometimes i play guitar, sometimes there is silence

I can see the cobalt pines in the distance

Cobalt Pines

Ich muss dich verliern (Remix)

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The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver

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