Charles Santore. Poppy Field, 1991.

Duerme Dorothy

So, you won't take warning, eh? All the worse for you. I'll take care of you now instead of later. When I gain those ruby slippers, my power will be the greatest in Oz. (She stirs the potion.) Now my beauties. Something with poi-son in it I think. With poison in it. But attractive to the eye and soothing to the smell. Ha-ha-ha-ha. Poppies. Poppies. Poppies will put them to sleep. Sle-ee-p. Now they'll sle-ee-p.

Atrapasueños

Estamos acostumbrados a verlos por todos lados en los mercadillos, con diseños muy feos, pero la idea de los atrapasueños es muy bonita. Según la tradición india los buenos sueños atraviesan el centro mientras que los malos sueños quedan atrapados en la red y se desvanecen al llegar el día.

La foto (es increíble que sea una foto y no una ilustración) es de Chrissie White.

Her morning elegance

Para compensar lo de ayer, pongo una de mis canciones y vídeos preferidos. Casi no la puedo escuchar entera porque siempre se me saltan las lágrimas.

Sun been down for days
A pretty flower in a vase
A slipper by the fireplace
A cello lying in its case

Soon she's down the stairs
Her morning elegance she wears
The sound of water makes her dream
Awoken by a cloud of steam
She pours a daydream in a cup
A spoon of sugar sweetens up

And She fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
As she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught
By a thread
She pays for the bread
And She goes...
Nobody knows

Sun been down for days
A winter melody she plays
The thunder makes her contemplate
She hears a noise behind the gate
Perhaps a letter with a dove
Perhaps a stranger she could love

And She fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
As she goes in a store
With a thought she has caught
By a thread
She pays for the bread


And She goes...
Nobody knows

And She fights for her life
As she puts on her coat
And she fights for her life on the train
She looks at the rain
As it pours
And she fights for her life
Where people are pleasently strange
And counting the change
And She goes...
Nobody knows

No sé muy bien por qué pongo esta foto aquí si la odio. Desde que la descubrí en la página de este fotógrafo me repelió y al mismo tiempo no me la quito de la cabeza. Es como todo el terror de mis pesadillas de la infancia concentrado en una imagen.