söndag 28 februari 2010
lördag 27 februari 2010
fredag 26 februari 2010
torsdag 25 februari 2010
tisdag 23 februari 2010
"On May 1, 1947, Evelyn McHale leapt to her death from the observation deck of the Empire State Building. Photographer Robert Wiles took a photo of McHale a few minutes after her death.
The photo ran a couple of weeks later in Life magazine accompanied by the following caption:
On May Day, just after leaving her fiancé, 23-year-old Evelyn McHale wrote a note. ‘He is much better off without me … I wouldn’t make a good wife for anybody,’ … Then she crossed it out. She went to the observation platform of the Empire State Building. Through the mist she gazed at the street, 86 floors below. Then she jumped. In her desperate determination she leaped clear of the setbacks and hit a United Nations limousine parked at the curb. Across the street photography student Robert Wiles heard an explosive crash. Just four minutes after Evelyn McHale’s death Wiles got this picture of death’s violence and its composure."
måndag 22 februari 2010
Goodbye my friend, goodbye
My love, you're in my heart
It was penalty that we should part
We're united by and by, united by and by
No hate left to endure, it was nothing
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye.
My dear one, you're in my breast.
This predestined parting promises a meeting ahead.
Goodbye, my friend, without hand, without word
No sorrow and no sadness in brow.
In this life, dying is no new
But living, of course, isn't novel either.
Goodbye, goodbye, my friend, within my bosom dear.
This parting ruled by destiny, a meeting means somewhere.
Goodbye, my friend, no hand, no word, don't draw your brows and grieve, in life to die is nothing new, it's nothing new to live.
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye, goodbye.
You are in my heart, as evidence.
Our preordained disseverence predicts reunion by and by.
Goodbye; no handshake to endure.
Let's have no sadness-furrowed brow.
There's nothing new in dying now
Though living is no newer.