singing [Theme] Page 1

She teaches children to die in hospices. “They have already made a business out of death, not yet out of dying. I do not console those who remain. I do not sympathize with the desperate, I do not wipe their tears, I do not try to support their spirit. I explain and make death clearer and closer to children. They understand the meaning of death much better than we adults do. It is often enough for them to understand that to die is simply to stop living. They also worry about whether it will hurt and whether they will go to heaven. Then I say that I do not believe in the sky, but I believe in a warm wind. In fluffy clouds of amazing shapes and warm rain pounding on the roof, in bright butterflies dancing on the colored heads of flowers, in the singing of birds outside the window, in a sunbeam hitting the glass. And I say that I will meet them there when they leave. They ask if mom will cry. And I don’t deceive them, I answer that yes, mom will cry.

And where I am leading, what we call happiness, is different for everyone, it all depends on our thinking. Change your thinking and you will comprehend everything that you want.

- I can't sing at all. Even my father, hearing my voice, forbade me to sing in the church choir, fearing that this would negatively affect the attendance.

crystal singing of spheres.

- How does Spring come?

Not gloomy clouds in the sky,
Not wind long howling,
Not caustic fog exhausted,
And the day was overshadowed.
That bad is not the first case
(When I'm angry out of jealousy -
Shouted! You asked, "Don't torture!")
I was separated from you...
Not the light of the golden luminaries,
Not sweet singing of birds,
Othello awakened in me -
Ruthlessly threw down!
That eye of your wondrous power,
That voice that motivates us to live,
That jealousy awakened in me,
That beast made me be.
Possessed by your beauty,
No to carry.
Let into his heart crushed,
Loss of unthinkable fear.
Through tears she whispered, "Beloved,
Read my faithfulness in your eyes."
But the jealousy of the strong lanympy -
I left happiness in my dreams.
Not gloomy clouds in the sky,
Not the wind of cold days,
Not caustic fog exhausted,
And my life made it sicker...
That bad once case
(When, like a jealous villain -
Shouted! Though she asked: "Do not torture!")
Forever separated me from her...

I've always adored Frank Sinatra. His voice is a bar of gold, velvet cake.

The funny muttering of the magpie ...

It was here that the last realization came to me that there is no turning back. The flashlight goes out, and with it my determination. In the corridors above my head, I hear the singing of sea creatures. They promise the return of the seagulls.

A false note can be forgiven, but singing without feeling is never.

Let them say that I could not sing, but no one will say that I did not sing.

Use your eyesight every day as if blindness will strike you tomorrow. Hear the sounds of voices, birds singing as if tomorrow you will be deaf forever. Breathe in the aroma of flowers, enjoy the taste of food as if tomorrow you will lose your sense of smell and everything will become insipid for you.

I want to try singing again.

- You know, Caruso and Buzova have the same letters, but the difference is enormous.