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A Tax rose is but a rose by any other name - Page 4 - Carers UK Forum

A Tax rose is but a rose by any other name

Socialise and chat about other areas of your life
687 posts
I think it must be about you, Sajehar. It's French, but here are English subtitles (starts about halfway through):

Sajehar wrote:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-v-DZjZ9iY

MY fave song. Haven't got a clue what they're wittering on about; something about pearl fishers in Latin. Still like it though!
Melodies, Unchained, or not, have nothing on this.
Au Fond du Temple Saint is my favourite too !

English translation

At the back of the holy temple, decorated with flowers and gold, A woman appears! A woman appears! I can still see her! I can still see her! The prostrate crowd looks at her amazed and murmurs under its breath: look, this is the goddess looming up in the shadow and holding out her arms to us. Her veil parts slightly. What a vision! What a dream! The crowd is kneeling.

Yes, it is she! It is the goddess, more charming and more beautiful. Yes, it is she! It is the goddess who has come down among us. Her veil has parted and the crowd is kneeling. But through the crowd she makes her way. Already her long veil hides her face from us. My eyes, alas! Seek her in vain! She flees! She flees!

But what is this strange flame which is suddenly kindled in my soul! What unknown fire is destroying me? Your hand pushes mine away! Your hand pushes mine away! Love takes our hearts by storm and turns us into enemies! No, let nothing part us! No, nothing! Let nothing part us! No, nothing! Let us swear to remain friends! Let us swear to remain friends! Let us swear to remain friends! Oh yes, let us swear to remain friends!

Yes, it is her, the goddess, who comes to unite us this day. And, faithful to my promise, I wish to cherish you like a brother! It is her, the goddess, who comes to unite us this day! Yes, let us share the same fate, let us be united until death!
Hi Greta and Susique

Thanks for the info on the Pearl Fishers. Ace music and singing, isn’t it… absolutely love it, even if I did get the music’s story wrong.

For the past 35 years or so I’ve never ACTUALLY know what it was all about. In my imagination it was about a couple of pearl fishers (presumably in Japan) having a barney about some Geisha girl, she gets pissed off at the pair of them for arguing over her like she’s some sort of possession, so she leaves them both to it, and pisses off with a third pearl fisher (who can blame her), and the first two end up commiserating each other in the manner of drunk blokes arguing: that is, nearly coming to blows and then end up hugging one another like long lost brothers.

Oh well…. I at least got the last bit about being brothers right, if nothing else. It just goes to show the interpretations you can put on things if you don’t understand the language.

But sometimes I think that’s the good thing about music in foreign languages, you can let your imagination run riot. Is that such a bad thing? Does it really matter if the pearl fishers is about a goddess (not that much different from a geisha when you think about it) or about drunken fishermen (acolytes arguing about what?)
With music like that, they could be arguing about cat food V dog food for all I care. For all I know, they could be?

But it still moves me…. Don’t even get me started on Beethoven’s 7th Sympony, 2nd Movement.

Regarding steak mate, we now have an argument over whether Beethoven’s 5th is better than the 7th. (I prefer the 7th.)

He likes Mendelsohn, I like Mussgoryski (I bet I spelt them wrong.... big deal!)

Let’s call the whole thing of.

I think my interpretation of Ravel’s Bolero rather put him off. I'm not at all what Ravel meant, but I envision a very reluctant victim swathed in a cloak of feathers being led up a massive temple of steps. The music is rocky (meaning they sway from side to side, rather than like rock & roll) but he walks up it all the same.
Each crescendo gets more intense because the poor bugger KNOWS they’re going to die, and every now and then in the music, the victim knows it and tries to escape. But those behind him force him on.
The end bit is where they lay him down on an altar, rip out his heart, and the last bit is where they kick him down the steps (the tummbley bits of music at the end.)

“And you see all that in Ravel’s Bolero; an Aztec sacrifice????”

“Well, they were blood thirsty gits by all accounts. And the incessant swayiness of the music reminded me of going up steps to some inexorable dome. What else was I supposed to think of other than Aztec sacrifices?”

“I don’t think Ravel would approve of your thinking about his music.”

“That’s his problem, not mine. Now, why do like Mendelsohn so much…Not that I've got anything against Mendleson... whoever the hell he is.
I’m beginning to have my suspicions about Steak Mate and the District Nurse. It’s all happened so damn quick… not that I’m complaining, mind.

My suspicions (assuming I’m not being paranoid) will take some explaining. So I shall start at the beginning; a very good place to start, according to Julie Andrews. If it’s good enough for her, it’s good enough for me!

During our bet meal out, he got me talking about mum. I took no encouragement, and started gabbling away about the difficulties me and dad had transferring mum from her seat to her wheelchair.
He wanted to know why we didn’t get her a something or other chair.

“Have you seen the price of them?”

Contact the District Nurse he said. I said we don’t like to pester the DN, and anyway we can manage.

End of….. Except the DN rings us up on Friday wanting to know if everything was going all right as we hadn’t contacted her for a while.

I told her I though mum was a bit chesty. She said she’d come around on Sunday. She did, and said mum needed an orthopaedic chair and hospital bed. Mum’s chestiness had already cleared up.

2 days later, an OT turns up to check mum out, 3 days later we get a call that they were delivering all this stuff on Tuesday; today.

Today it all turned up. Mum is chuffed to bits with her new chair. We were in the middle of experimenting with it, pushing buttons left right and centre. I even told her at one point that I wanted to chuck her out of it and have a go myself. We were having fun!

Who should then turn up, totally unannounced, but steak mate. He was bearing gifts for my mother in the form of soft-centre chocs, which my mother loves… the traitor (my mum that is, not him… I think?)

We then got in to a totally insane conversation about comets, of all things!!!

I didn’t think my mum would recognise him when I introduced them. She did. That then led on to my parent’s 2nd honeymoon.
My mum told him that when I went to stay with his family (his sister was my best friend) all I did was complain about how awful it was when my parent’s got back.

“That’s rubbish mum, I really enjoyed myself. We had midnight feasts and everything…. Except misery guts here wouldn’t join in.”

“I was a little old for midnight feasts.”

“Your loss, not mine.”

Mum then stepped in (metaphorically speaking as she couldn’t do it physically) with

“Didn’t you see a comet?”

“Yeh, it was rubbish. We though we going to see some amazing sight. It was this poxy thing on the horizon, DEFINITELY NOT like filling the sky or something. I think it was called Kahoutec’s or something.”

“It was Haylie’s comet.”

“No it bloody wasn’t; it was Kahtotec’s Comet.”

This arguing about Kahotec’s V Haleys comet went on for some time.

So we spent about half an hour arguing about some bloody stupid comet and its name. How daft is that? Like, who cares?

An so it went on and on, until mum said, “I don’t care what that comet is called; where’s my clicker?”

I've never heard a song more powerfully sung
And what if you have voted SNP your entire life Shewolf :) ?

You are Scottish i would guess :D
687 posts