jueves, 11 de abril de 2013

NASA: It is happening now - Está sucediendo ahora - 11.04.13 - Oman - Yemen - Dust over the Arabian Sea

Dust over the Arabian Sea
acquired April 7, 2013 download large image (2 MB, JPEG, 5600x4400)
A giant veil of dust hung over the southern Arabian Peninsula and part of the Arabian Sea on April 7, 2013. The Moderate Resolution Imaging Spectroradiometer (MODIS) on NASA’s Terra satellite captured this natural-color image of the Yemen and Oman coasts the same day. A translucent layer of dust spanned hundreds of kilometers as MODIS took this picture, and the dust plume even formed a wave pattern off the Yemen coast.
Much of the Arabian Peninsula is occupied by the Empty Quarter or Rub’ al Khali. Deriving its name from its sparse human population, the Empty Quarter is a sand sea holding half as much sand as the entire Sahara Desert. This massive sand sea provides ample material for dust storms in the region. This particular dust storm was a multi-day event. MODIS observed dust over an even larger area on April 8 and April 9.
NASA image by Jeff Schmaltz, LANCE/EOSDIS MODIS Rapid Response. Caption by Michon Scott.
Instrument: 
Terra - MODIS
NASA: It is happening now - Está sucediendo ahora - 11.04.13 - Oman - Yemen - Dust over the Arabian Sea

Animals - Animales: Birds - Pajaros - Owls - Bhuos - Lechuzas - Nacurutu - Part 6 - Links

 Ñacurutú
Fotografiado en la localidad de Ceibas - Argentina






Ñacurutú - Fotografiado en la localidad de Ceibas - Argentina

Animals - Animales: Birds - Pajaros - Owls - Bhuos - Lechuzas - Nacurutu - Part 6 - Links

Music: Etta James - Hush Hush - Don't cry baby - Lyrics



Etta James - Hush Hush

Hush hush
Baby don’t believe a word
Hush hush
Baby don’t believe a word
Word don’t know nothin but believe everything you heard
Hush hush
Just yackety yack all the time
Hush hush
Yackety yack all the time
If you don’t stop yackin you’re gonna make me outta my mind

Hush hush
Baby can ya hear a word ya say?
Hush hush
I didn’t hear a word you said
If you don’t stop talkin I’m gonna leave and I’m gonna be mighty ‘fraid
Hush hush
Hush hush
Hush hush
Hush hush
Hush hush baby I don’t believe a word you said
Hush hush
Just yackety yack all the time
Hush hush
And yackety yack all the time
If you don’t stop yackin your gonna drive me out of my mind


Etta James - Don't Cry Baby
1961

Don't cry, don't cry baby
Don't cry baby
Dry your eyes, and let's be sweethearts again
And oh, cuz you know
You know I didn't mean
To ever treat you so mean
C'mon, c'mon sweetheart
And let's try it over again
And oh, don't cry
Don't cry baby
Don't cry, don't cry
Dry your eyes, and let's be sweethearts again
And oh, cuz you know I didn't mean
To ever treat you so mean
C'mon, c'mon sweetheart
And let's try it over again
Repeat


Music: Etta James - Hush Hush - Don't cry baby - Lyrics

Paul Celan - De umbral en umbral (1955) - Parte 3 - Ojo del tiempo - Cualquier piedra que levantes - Schibboleth - Links


OJO DEL TIEMPO

Este es el ojo del tiempo:
torcido mira
bajo ceja de siete colores.
Su párpado es lavado por fuegos,
su lágrima es vapor.

La ciega estrella vuela hacia él
y se derrite en la pestaña hirviente:
se va entibiando el mundo,
y los muertos
echan brotes y florecen.



CUALQUIER PIEDRA QUE LEVANTES

Cualquier piedra que levantes —
tú descubres
a aquellos que necesitan el abrigo de las piedras:
desnudos,
ya renuevan el entrevero.

Cualquier árbol que derribes —
tú construyes
el lecho sobre el cual
las almas se amontonan y amontonan,
como si no se raleara
también este
Evo.

Cualquier palabra que tú hables —
la debes
al destrozo.



SCHIBBOLETH

Junto a mis piedras,
las lloradas inmensamente
detrás de las verjas,

me arrastraron ellos
al medio del mercado,
hasta donde esa
bandera se despliega, aquella por la cual
no pronuncié ningún juramento.

Flauta,
flauta doble de la noche:
piensa en el oscuro
mellizo arrebol
en Viena y Madrid.

Pon tu bandera a media asta,
remembranza.
A media asta
por hoy y para siempre.

Corazón:
date a conocer aquí también,
aquí, en medio del mercado.
Grítalo, el schibboleth, lánzalo
fuera a lo foráneo de la patria:
febrero. No pasarán.

Unicornio:
tú sabes de las piedras,
tú sabes de las aguas,
ven,
yo te llevaré lejos
hasta las voces
de Estremadura.




De Amapola y Memoria (1952):


De umbral en umbral (1955):



Paul Celan - De umbral en umbral (1955) - Parte 3 - Ojo del tiempo - Cualquier piedra que levantes - Schibboleth - Links



Poetry: Oscar Wilde - Roses And Rue - Easter Day - Links to more poems



Easter Day

The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
'Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest.
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.'



Roses And Rue
(To L. L.)

Could we dig up this long-buried treasure,
Were it worth the pleasure,
We never could learn love's song,
We are parted too long.

Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead,
Could we live it all over again,
Were it worth the pain!

I remember we used to meet
By an ivied seat,
And you warbled each pretty word
With the air of a bird;

And your voice had a quaver in it,
Just like a linnet,
And shook, as the blackbird's throat
With its last big note;

And your eyes, they were green and grey
Like an April day,
But lit into amethyst
When I stooped and kissed;

And your mouth, it would never smile
For a long, long while,
Then it rippled all over with laughter
Five minutes after.

You were always afraid of a shower,
Just like a flower:
I remember you started and ran
When the rain began.

I remember I never could catch you,
For no one could match you,
You had wonderful, luminous, fleet,
Little wings to your feet.

I remember your hair - did I tie it?
For it always ran riot -
Like a tangled sunbeam of gold:
These things are old.

I remember so well the room,
And the lilac bloom
That beat at the dripping pane
In the warm June rain;

And the colour of your gown,
It was amber-brown,
And two yellow satin bows
From your shoulders rose.

And the handkerchief of French lace
Which you held to your face -
Had a small tear left a stain?
Or was it the rain?

On your hand as it waved adieu
There were veins of blue;
In your voice as it said good-bye
Was a petulant cry,

'You have only wasted your life.'
(Ah, that was the knife!)
When I rushed through the garden gate
It was all too late.

Could we live it over again,
Were it worth the pain,
Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead!

Well, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know,
Poets' hearts break so.

But strange that I was not told
That the brain can hold
In a tiny ivory cell
God's heaven and hell.


Poetry: Oscar Wilde - Roses And Rue - Easter Day - Links to more poems










 Wilde tomb