Spoken Word Demo
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US West Coast - California, Portland)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Hi, This is David Becker, and I'm reading From Nostalgia for Death Poetry by Xavier Villa Rita and Octavio Paz. Hira Cliffs of Desire, A critical study of Villa Rita, translated by Eliot Weinberger and Esther Allan. And what I find fascinating about this book is the translation from Spanish to English, and I have my my own interpretation of the some of the translations but fascinating poetry for someone who might be a little on the depressive side. Typically. But the 1st 1 I'm going to read is called Nocturne Imprisoned, Held Prisoner. In my mind, the dream wants to escape and prove its innocence to everyone on the outside. I hear it's impatient voice, See it's gestures, its furious, menacing state. It doesn't know that I'm the dream of another, that if I were its keeper, I'd have set it free. And next there is alone, Nocturne alone, Loneliness, boredom, useless bottomless silence. I've sunk in liquid shadows, all thought blanked out, and not even the infection oven in define herbal voice to reach the impossible corner oven infinite sea to illuminate screaming this invisible, wrecked ship. And this is when evening when evening shuts its distant windows and invisible doors so that dust smoke ashes in palpable, dark, slow as the work of death in a boy's body start to grow when evening at last has gathered the last glint of light, the last cloud, the abandoned reflection and interrupted sound. The night then silently surges from secret furrows from hidden corners from half open mouths from insomniac eyes. Night surges with the dense smoke of cigarettes and chimneys. Night surges wrapped in its cape of dust. The dust slowly rises out oven Impenetrable sky growing closer, denser ashes rain. When smoky, dusty, ashen night wraps around the city, men hold back, suspended for a moment for a night born within them. His desire.