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Versurile Laurie Anderson - Maria Teresa Teresa Maria
Versuri Maria Teresa Teresa Maria
Last spring, I spent a week in a convent in the
Midwest. Iâd been invited there to do a series
of seminars on language. Theyâd gotten my name
from a list in Washington, from a brochure that
described my work as âdeals with the spiritual
issues of our timeâ, undoubtedly a blurb I had
written myself.
Because of this, and also because men were not
allowed to enter the convert, they asked me to
come out. The night I arrived, they had a party
for me in a nearby town, in a downstairs lounge of
a crystal laneâs bowling alley.
The alley was reserved for the nuns, for their
Tuesday night tournaments; it was a pizza party.
And the lounge was decorated to look like a cave:
every surface was covered with that spray-on rock
thatâs usually used for soundproofing. In this
case, it had the opposite effect: it amplified
every sound.
Now the nuns were in the middle of their annual
tournament playoffs. And we could hear all the
bowling balls rolling very slowly down the aisles
above us, making the rock club stalactites tremble
and resonate.
Finally the pizza arrived, and the mother
superior began to bless the food. Now this woman
normally had a gruffed low-pitched speaking voice
but as soon as she began to pray he voice rose,
became pure, bell-like, like a childâs. The
prayer went on and on increasing in volume each
time a sister got a strike, rising in pitch
âDear Father in Heavenâ.
The next day I was scheduled to begin this
seminar on language. Iâd been very struck by
this prayer and I wanted to talk about how
womenâs voices rise in pitch when theyâre
asking for things, especially from men. But it was
odd. Every time I set a time for the seminar,
there was some reason to postpone it: the potatoes
had to be dug out, or a busload of old people
would appear out of nowhere and have to be shown
around.
So I never actually did the seminar. But I spent
a lot of time there, walking around the grounds
and looking at all the crops, which were all
labeled. And there was also a neatly laid-out
cemetery, hundreds of identical white crosses in
rows, and there were labeled âMariaâ,
âTeresaâ, âMaria Teresaâ, âTeresa
Mariaâ, and the only sadder cemetery I saw was
last summer in Switzerland. And I was dragged
there by a Hermann Hesse fanatic, who had never
recovered from reading ###130414, and one hot
August morning when the sky was quiet, we made a
pilgrimage to the cemetery; we brought a lot of
flowers and we finally found his grave. It was
marked with a huge fur tree and a mammoth stone
that said âHesseâ in huge Helvetica bold
letters. It looked more like a marquee than a
tombstone. And around the corner was this tiny
stone for his wife, Nina, and on it was one word:
âAuslanderâ â foreigner. And this made me so
sad and so mad that I was sorry Iâd brought the
flowers. Anyway, I de! cided to leave the flowers,
along with a mean note, and it read:
Even though youâre not my favorite writer, by
long shots, I leave these flowers on your resting
spot.
Muzica muzica straina descarca asculta cantece cuvinte Maria Teresa Teresa Maria piesa versuri. Laurie Anderson versuri cantece melodiei melodia piesa.
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