Et si tu n'existais pas Lyrics de Joe Dassin

Et si tu n'existais pas Lyrics
Joe Dassin

Et si tu n´existais pas,
Dis-moi pourquoi j´existerais?
Pour traîner dans un monde sans toi,
Sans espoir et sans regrets.

Et si tu n´existais pas,
J´essaierais d´inventer l´amour,
Comme un peintre qui voit sous ses doigts
Naître les couleurs du jour.
Et qui n´en revient pas.

Et si tu n´existais pas,
Dis-moi pour qui j´existerais?
Des passantes endormies dans mes bras
Que je n´aimerais jamais.

Et si tu n´existais pas,
Je ne serais qu´un point de plus
Dans ce monde qui vient et qui va,
Je me sentirais perdu,
J´aurais besoin de toi.

Et si tu n´existais pas,
Dis-moi comment j´existerais?
Je pourrais faire semblant d´être moi,
Mais je ne serais pas vrai.

Et si tu n´existais pas,
Je crois que je l´aurais trouvé,
Le secret de la vie, le pourquoi,
Simplement pour te créer
Et pour te regarder.

English translation
And if you didn't exist

And if you didn't exist
Tell me, why would I exist?
To linger in a world without you
Without hope or regret
And if you didn't exist
I would try to invent love
Like a painter, marvelling at the colours of day
Born under his fingers

And if you didn't exist
Tell me, who should I exist for?
The passers-by asleep in my arms
That I could never love?
And if you didn't exist
I would be but one more dot
In this world that comes and goes
I would feel lost
I would need you

And if you didn't exist
Tell me, how could I exist?
I could pretend to be myself
But I wouldn't be true
And if you didn't exist
I believe I would find
The secret of life, the 'why'
Just to create you
And to look at you

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Life in the Blue

Life in the Blue collection portrays a remarkable array of underwater species in their most natural habitat.

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Tolerance quote by John Locke

For it will be very difficult to persuade men of sense that he who with dry eyes and satisfaction of mind can deliver his brother to the executioner to be burnt alive, does sincerely and heartily concern himself to save that brother from the flames of hell in the world to come.
John Locke, A Letter Concerning Toleration

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I Mark Your Courage by Ivan Donn Carswell

I Mark Your Courage
Ivan Donn Carswell

I had no profound feelings of shock or surprise
to those matter-of-fact revelations
which spelled the end of this chapter of your life.
It was, as you put it, too late for recriminations,
and the horrendous realities could be no worse
for having faced them.

I mark your courage in that moment of admission,
when your soul cried out in sympathetic pain,
worn thin by abrasions of self-imprisonment
and total subjugation to providence.
You did not disguise your frailty
as lesser men are apt by schemes
which shorten their horizons, elaborate their dreams.

That you are a molecule conniving in
the physics of human chemistry
is no slight upon your status,
without dynamic you are less
a man of cloth than habit claims you be;
And martyr to ascription is the poorer fate
than anticipated condemnation from
a selfless breach of faith.

Ordinary passions do not progress beyond
the continuum of priestly enlightenment; we share
a whole psychology of man's experience
as our eternal life. Its unitary expression
is no greater than the measureless sum,
and the sum is no value less than life itself.
No enlightened soul can judge another man
for passions of humanity; the sentence of conscience
is an arbitrary punishment in which we all delight.

I am no herdsman fearing ill in ceaseless care
of herded sheep, nor could I choose
entanglement with such an entity; your flock
survives as do your prayers, and will survive
long past your flight. You earned their trust
in episodes of heart and light, and keep
its privileged charter frozen out of time,
embalmed in a perfect past.
As one we mourn your passing.

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Excerpts from"Your Thought and Mine" by Khalil Gibran,Excerpts from "song of the open road" by Walt whitman,Inspiring quotes by Henry W Longfellow

Music:
Richard Clayderman:te Amo

Gary Morrow Art

Excerpts from "Your Thought and Mine"
Khalil Gibran

Your thought is a tree rooted deep in the soil of tradition
and whose branches grow in the power of continuity.
My thought is a cloud moving in the space. It turns into
drops which, as they fall, form a brook that sings its way
into the sea. Then it rises as vapour into the sky.

Your thought is a fortress that neither gale nor the lightning
can shake. My thought is a tender leaf that sways in every
direction and finds pleasure in its swaying.
Your thought is an ancient dogma that cannot change you nor
can you change it.
My thought is new, and it tests me and I test it morn and eve.
You have your thought and I have mine.

Your thought allows you to believe in the unequal contest
of the strong against the weak, and in the tricking of
the simple by the subtle ones. My thought creates in me
the desire to till the earth with my hoe, and harvest
the crops with my sickle, and build my home with stones
and mortar, and weave my raiment with woollen and linen threads.

Your thought urges you to marry wealth and notability.
Mine commends self-reliance. Your thought advocates fame
and show. Mine counsels me and implores me to cast aside
notoriety and treat it like a grain of sand cast upon
the shore of eternity.

Your thought instils in your heart arrogance and superiority.
Mine plants within me love for peace and the desire for
independence. Your thought begets dreams of palaces with
furniture of sandalwood studded with jewels, and beds
made of twisted silk threads.

My thought speaks softly in my ears,Be clean in body and
spirit even if you have nowhere to lay your head. Your
thought makes you aspire to titles and offices.
Mine exhorts me to humble service.
You have your thought and I have mine.

Your thought is social science, a religious and political
dictionary. Mine is simple axiom. Your thought speaks of
the beautiful woman, the ugly, the virtuous, the prostitute,
the intelligent, and the stupid. Mine sees in every woman
a mother, a sister, or a daughter of every man.

The subjects of your thought are thieves, criminals, and
assassins. Mine declares that thieves are the creatures
of monopoly, criminals are the offspring of tyrants, and
assassins are akin to the slain. Your thought describes
laws, courts, judges, punishments. Mine explains that when
man makes a law, he either violates it or obeys it.
If there is a basic law, we are all one before it. He who
disdains the mean is himself mean. He who vaunts his scorn
of the sinful vaunts his disdain of all humanity.

Your thought concerns the skilled, the artist, the intellectual,
the philosopher, the priest. Mine speaks of the loving and
the affectionate, the sincere, the honest, the forthright,
the kindly, and the martyr.

In your thought there are the rich, the poor, and the beggared.
My thought holds that there are no riches but life; that we are
all beggars, and no benefactor exists save life herself.
You have your thought and I have mine.

Your thought differentiates between pragmatist and idealist,
between the part and the whole, between the mystic and materialist.
Mine realizes that life is one and its weights, measures and
tables do not coincide with your weights, measures and tables.
He whom you suppose an idealist may be a practical man.
You have your thought and I have mine.

Your thought is interested in ruins and museums, mummies and
petrified objects. But mine hovers in the ever-renewed haze
and clouds. Your thought is enthroned on skulls. Since you
take pride in it, you glorify it too.

My thought wanders in the obscure and distant valleys.
Your thought trumpets while you dance. Mine prefers
the anguish of death to your music and dancing.
Your thought is the thought of gossip and false pleasure.
Mine is the thought of him who is lost in his own country,
of the alien in his own nation, of the solitary among his
kinfolk and friends.
You have your thought and I have mine.

Michael and Inessa Garmash Painting

Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more,
need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them with
me wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.
WALT WHITMAN,excerpts from "Song of the Open Road"

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solenm main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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On Releasing a Captive Bird by James Allen

On Releasing a Captive Bird
James Allen

I found a little bird held fast, ensnared
By ruthless hands; a gentle, captive prey
Thirsting for freedom, piteously scared,
Struggling in vain to ’scape and soar away.

I marked his terror, and I took him up;
His fluttering heart spoke out his wild despair.
"Look, you and I with the great gods shall sup
This day," I said; then threw him into air.

Whereat he soared, and wheeled, and flew away;
Great was his joy, and Truth - born bliss was mine;
Thus supped we both with the high gods that day;
Thus tasted we their nectar, drank their wine.

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BETTER ,From the Dhammapada

Vicente Romero Redondo Art

BETTER
From the Dhammapada

Better than a thousand
Hollow words
Is one word that brings peace.
Better than a thousand
Hollow verses
Is one verse that brings peace.
Better than a hundred
Hollow lines
Is one line of the law, Bringing peace.
It is better to conquer yourself
Than to win a thousand battles;
Then the victory is yours.

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