Thursday, January 7, 2010

Direct Tv, Clearing History


Cyrano de Bergerac, the end.

ROSSANA: I love you, you live.

Cyrano: Too late. I'm going to climb up there, gleaming in the moon. The souls that I love, similar to my whims, find myself in exile, between Socrates and Galileo. Philosopher, naturalist, master-at-arms and rhymes, musician, traveler climbs, but had no claque actor, a lover even without conquest, here lies Hercules Savignano Cirano de Bergerac, which was everything, and it was in vain ... But I'm, sorry, I can not wait. Given the moonbeam I came to take? I do not want your support, nothing more than plants. She is. Already I feel like chilling marble, gloved with lead. Ah, because she is on the way, I will meet my fate with his scythe. What do you say? You do not need? I know, nice discovery. Why fight if victory is certain? And 'better when it is useless, between bursts of sparks. Who are all those? Ah, but you are ten thousand. Ah, yes, I admit, my enemies in the forum. Lies, cowardice, duplicity, Compromise ... I know that ultimately you give me the fool. What does it matter I'm fighting, I'm fighting, I'm fighting! Ah! You ripped me all the laurel and the rose. Help yourself. In spite of you, I still have another thing that is mine. And when you go into this evening of God, I greet the blue sweep the glitz and offer it with pride ever macchiai or staining, the purity of the untamed ...

ROSSANA: Of ...?

Cyrano: ... my plume.

photos © Aleyakke


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