simon&garfunkel

Voilà j'ai décidé de créer ce blog en l'honneur de deux grands artistes: Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. Rien ne vaut des extraits live de leurs concerts!!!

La plus connue et peut etre la plus belle: the sound of silence... (là ils sont jeunes mais vous allez pouvoir suivre leur évolution capilaire...^^).

Une autre version peut etre encore plus belle avec les paroles:

Hello, darkness my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams i walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.

"Fools," said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed Out a warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper'd in the sounds of silence.

Traduction (artisanale):

Salut obscurité, ma vieille amie.
Je suis venu pour te parler à nouveau,
Parce qu'une vision avançant doucement,
A laissé ses graines alors que je dormais.
Et la vision qu'on a implanté dans mon cerveau,
Reste encore,
À l'intérieur du son du silence.

Dans des rêves agités, j'ai marché seul,
Sur des routes pavées étroites,
Sous le halo d'un lampadaire.
J'ai tourné mon col vers le froid et l'humidité,
Quand mes yeux ont été poignardés par le flash de la lumière d'un néon,
Qui a déchiré la nuit
Et touché le son du silence.

Et dans la lumière nue j'ai vu,
Dix mille personnes peut-être plus.
Des gens parlant sans rien dire,
Des gens entendant sans écouter,
Des gens écrivant des chansons que les voix ne "partagent" jamais.
Et personne n'ose,
Perturber le son du silence.

"Idiots" ai-je dit "Vous ne savez pas
Que le silence, tel un cancer, se propage,
Écoutez mes mots que je devrais vous enseigner,
Attrapez mes bras que je devrais vous tendre"
Mais mes mots, tels des gouttes de pluie silencieuses, tombèrent,
Et résonnèrent,
Dans les puits du silence.

Et les gens se courbèrent pour prier,
Vers le Dieu-néon qu'ils ont créés,
Et l'enseigne fit clignoter son avertissement,
Dans les mots que cela formait.
Et l'enseigne dit "Les mots d'un prophète sont écrits
Sur les murs du métro
Et les halls d'immeuble"
Et chuchota dans les sons du silence.

Une chanson aps mal du tout:

I'm sittin' in the railway station
Got a ticket for my destination
On a tour of one night stands
My suitcase and guitar in hand
And every stop is neatly planned
For a poet and a one man band

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me

Everyday's an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines
And each town looks the same to me
The movies and the factories
And every stranger's face I see
Reminds me that I long to be

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me

Tonight I'll sing my songs again
I'll play the game and pretend
But all my words come back to me
In shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony
I need someone to comfort me

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound
Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waitIng
Silently for me
Silently for me
Silently for me

The last train is nearly due,
The underground is closing soon,
And in the dark deserted station,
Restless in anticipation,
A man waits in the shadows.

His restless eyes leap and scratch,
At all that they can touch or catch,
And hidden deep within his pocket,
Safe within its silent socket,
He holds a colored crayon.

Now from the tunnel's stony womb,
The carriage rides to meet the groom,
And opens wide and welcome doors,
But he hesitates, then withdraws
Deeper in the shadows.

And the train is gone suddenly
On wheels clicking silently
Like a gently tapping litany,
And he holds his crayon rosary
Tighter in his hand.

Now from his pocket quick he flashes,
The crayon on the wall he slashes,
Deep upon the advertising,
A single worded poem comprised
Of four letters.

And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding
The poem across the tracks rebounding
Shadowed by the exit light
His legs take their ascending flight
To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night.