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Post by Wildcat on Dec 4, 2017 21:57:54 GMT -5
Let's revive this thread.
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Post by The Gior from Ipanema on Dec 4, 2017 22:12:37 GMT -5
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Post by Beercules on Dec 5, 2017 8:18:00 GMT -5
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Post by boombo on Dec 5, 2017 8:19:32 GMT -5
LOL how has nobody mentioned this classic?  |
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Post by jgtheone on Dec 5, 2017 8:37:52 GMT -5
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Post by boombo on Dec 14, 2017 6:56:50 GMT -5
Just heard this on the radio  |
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Post by boombo on Dec 15, 2017 8:13:38 GMT -5
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Post by Wildcat on Apr 3, 2018 10:56:53 GMT -5
“The warm winds turned to frost”
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Post by Hlidskjalf on Apr 4, 2018 10:54:31 GMT -5
Burzum - Når himmelen klarner (When the sky clares)
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Post by Hlidskjalf on Apr 4, 2018 13:08:25 GMT -5
Last sentence: "Iskalde snøen har kommet. Denne gang. I evig fokk."
Translates to: "The ice cold snow has arrived. This time in eternal blizzard."
Great song.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2018 19:35:52 GMT -5
Gordon Lightfoot is the absolute greatest
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Post by Noodleman556 on Aug 22, 2018 4:07:40 GMT -5
Amazing song i've been listening to heaps recently. Although the youtube version has both the intro tok the album and the song "she changes the weather" spliced together.
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Post by jgtheone on Aug 22, 2018 9:25:36 GMT -5
clear shitpost
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Post by urania93 on Nov 10, 2018 14:31:52 GMT -5
This is actually a poem, but it is strongly related to weather and seasons. This is a poem written in 1883 by Giosuè Carducci, which in here is a famous poet, and it focuses on the Saint Martin's day. Saint Martin is celebrated in Nov 11, so tomorrow, and traditionally it is the day in which the grapes juice prepared in the previous months starts to be called wine. Saint Martin's day is also associated with the "estate di San Martino" (Saint Martin's summer), which is a relatively warm and sunny period which can happen in the first half of November. So, here there is the best translation I managed to find for this poem ( source) Saint Martin's Day
The fog to the bare hills soars in the thin rain, and below the wind howls and churns the sea; yet through the hamlet's alleys from the fermenting casks goes the pungent scent of wines to touch a soul with glee. On the firewood, turns the skewer crackling: stands the hunter whistling, on the threshold to see in the reddening clouds flocks of black birds, like exiled thoughts as in the dusk they flee. Original text under spoiler
San Martino
La nebbia a gl'irti colli
piovigginando sale,
e sotto il maestrale
urla e biancheggia il mar;
ma per le vie del borgo
dal ribollir de' tini
va l'aspro odor dei vini
l'anime a rallegrar.
Gira su' ceppi accesi
lo spiedo scoppiettando:
sta il cacciator fischiando
su l'uscio a rimirar
tra le rossastre nubi
stormi d'uccelli neri,
com'esuli pensieri,
nel vespero migrar.
That's actually a poem that the most of us had to memorise word by word back in school, and it is also the one that I remember the best. |
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Post by Wildcat on Apr 14, 2019 15:30:36 GMT -5
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Post by Wildcat on Jun 9, 2020 13:08:48 GMT -5
This was finally released, 2 years after Aly & Fila first played it
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Post by snj90 on Dec 6, 2020 20:15:36 GMT -5
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Post by Strewthless on Dec 6, 2020 20:19:23 GMT -5
Only a British person could have written this one.
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Post by rozenn on Dec 29, 2020 17:33:50 GMT -5
Only a British person could have written this one. Sun-deprived Brits strike again. |
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Post by Strewthless on Dec 29, 2020 19:21:11 GMT -5
Only a British person could have written this one. Sun-deprived Brits strike again. "Video unavailable" |
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