1. |
Funky Sh*t
03:38
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2. |
Still I Rise
02:17
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Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
I rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
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3. |
The Roads not Taken
03:44
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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Undergrowth
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
Ever come back
Ever come back
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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4. |
Podries
03:51
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Si tu fossis nat
a la seva terra,
la tristesa d'ell
podria ser teva
Si haguessis nascut
en una altra terra,
podries ser blanc,
podries ser negre...
Un altre país
fóra casa teva,
i diries "sí"
en un altra llengua.
T'hauries criat
d'una altra manera
més bona, potser;
potser, més dolenta.
Podries, podries
Per tot això pensa
que importa tenir
les mans ben obertes
per tot això pensa
per tot això pensa
I ajudar qui ve
fugint de la guerra,
fugint del dolor
i de la pobresa.
Tindries amics
i jocs d'una altra mena;
duries vestits
de sac o de seda,
Sabates de pell
o tosca espardenya,
o aniries nu
perdut per la selva.
Podries llegir
contes i poemes,
o no tenir llibres
ni saber de lletra.
Podries, podries
Per tot això pensa
que importa tenir
les mans ben obertes
per tot això pensa
per tot això pensa
I ajudar qui ve
fugint de la guerra,
fugint del dolor
i de la pobresa.
Si tu fossis nat
a la seva terra,
la tristesa d'ell
podria ser teva.
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5. |
We Wear the Mask
03:49
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Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
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mclimentTDR Girona, Spain
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