Ukoliko ste fan muzike koju stvara bend Florence and the Machine, obožavaćete knjigu poezije “Usseles magic”, pevačice i tekstopisca grupe Florence Welch koju vam ovom prilikom predstavljam.
Usseles magic je svojevrsni intimni dnevnik kojim Florence maestralno dočarava proces stvaranja. Listajući ovaj intimni dnevnik od bezbroj delića slagalice stvaramo sliku o ovoj izuzetnoj umetnici.
Knjiga sadrži kolekciju pesama, intimnih beleški i ličnih fotografija zahvaljujući kojima imamo priliku da dobijemo uvid u razvojni put njene karijere. Apsolutno svaka stranica knjige je živopisna.
Florence nam u svojoj knjizi piše o tome kako nikada nije pravila razliku između pojmova “poem” i “song”: I don’t know what makes a song a song and a poem a poem. They have started to bleed into each other at this stage. But lyrics are still poems and poems are lyrics-this is exactly what this book is about.
Florence nam knjigom Usseles magic na neki način otvara vrata svoje duše. Umetnica sebe izmeđuostalog poredi sa uraganom koji se oduvek osećao dobro u haosu. Svaka stranica ove knjige izaziva u meni najrazličitiji spektar emocija, a među stranicama možete pronaći sve što biste od ove umetnice i očekivali, od intimnog i emotivnog sadržaja, kvalitetnih umetničkih fotografija do savršeno estetski uobličenih plišanih korica sa zlatotiskom. Čista magija, bez onog Usseles…
ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO
And the heart is hard to translate
It has a language of its own
It talks in tongues and quiet sighs
And prayers and proclamations, in the grand deeds
Of great men and the smallest of gestures
In short shallow gasps
But with all my education
I can’t seem to commend it
And the words are all escaping me
And coming back all damaged
And I would put them back in poetry
If I only knew how, I can’t seem to understand it
And I would give all this and heaven too
I would give it all if only for a moment
That I could just understand
The meaning of the word you see
‘Cause I’ve been scrawling it forever
But it never makes sense to me at all
And it talks to me in tiptoes
And sings to me inside
It cries out in the darkest night
And breaks in the morning light
But with all my education
I can’t seem to commend it
And the words are all escaping
