Ben Heine's music composition/production "Warsaw" is a tribute to the Polish capital, an important place for Ben. It is featuring Belgian saxophonist Stephane Pigeon. Ben recorded Stephane playing the saxophone in his studio, Ben played the other instruments and mixed them to obtain this electro jazzy touch. The clip was filmed in Warsaw by Fryderyk Sikorski. Watch the clip here above on YouTube and listen to the track here below on Soundcloud. Music Composition, production, recording, mastering and mixing: © Ben Heine 2016.
Showing posts with label Pologne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pologne. Show all posts
The Eden of that Dim Lake
.
.
.
The Lake
By Edgar Allan Poe
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
(Poem's source : pagesperso-orange.fr)
--------------
.
The poem and photo appeared on hubzay.deviantart.com
.
.
The Lake
By Edgar Allan Poe
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
(Poem's source : pagesperso-orange.fr)
--------------
.
The poem and photo appeared on hubzay.deviantart.com
.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)