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tv   [untitled]    July 16, 2010 6:00am-6:30am PST

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[applause]. >> foreign language speaking. w3
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>> i am very happy to be here. i feel very honored to have been asked to interpret this poem and make it a song. it's funny because something like two days before he asked me to do this, i was thinking to myself, i wonder what it would be like to write a song to the poetry. the reason i love the poem that we chose is because everything
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that i love in this poem, it's different, but, it has this magic in it and it's what you heard in spanish. of unexpected and beautiful things being placed next to each other in a way that surprises you and makes you realize life is always magical. here it is. [music] >> this is the way the world is, my dear, my dear.
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well, today i have to think the world as a whole. that i have to come from the sky. only you will be in the dark of night. [music]
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[applause]. >> foreign language speaking.
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[applause]. >> performing the poem day 30, for transforming into a raindrop. stand up. rise. balance your body slowly. you will notice you are making
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small, concentric circles. now partially close your eyes. looking between your eye lashes, feel the drop of water. concentrate on the idea that your body is essentially liquid. now gently raise a leg. keep the balance you achieved. raise your arm slowly so as not to break the balance that is costing us so much. hold your head in your hand. balance is at its critical point. pull your head upwards. your body fights against gravity. close your eyes and enjoy the pleasure of having changed into
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the last raindrop balance in your silent of the night. [applause]. >> foreign language speaking.
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[applause]. >> day 75, when i get ready to sneeze, everything seems to stop instantly. all the world butter flies breathe in flight. the polar ice caps stops building. the couple who are kissing don't want to take the tons out of their mouth. maybe paradise lost. >> foreign language speaking.
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[applause]. >> day 215, for my grandparents. the photos trapped in a box, rewrite the path of their rooms full of light. invisible photo that is unravel
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the dreams in a vigilant sleepless night that search for the lines they begin to be what they will be, and when the box dreams, the photos are startled and the final detail is lacking. the finishing touch on the edge of the door shines in the city. the imperceptible stain of one circle that diminishes the paintings that clouds let pass over us. clouds that pass over the beach of my childhood. near streets when i was a child. escaping the light of the moon
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of san pedro. the secret garden of my first poem. by the beach. my boyhood slow kiss on the lips of that girl. the kiss of my grand mother, witnesses clouds and dogs flying over the blue embrace of my water. that remains to live in my grandfather and purple on the hill of the last poem. >> foreign language speaking.
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[applause]. >> day 303. spirit of the black box. today i was in the mind of child. 517, 1823 unintelligible words. of high frequency waves, the first hug, the first cry, tell me that all that there is to
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forget to be really entertained only by the light, the divine light. [applause]. >> foreign language speaking. >> day 344. the birth of silence is written in the agony of a sigh. >> foreign language speaking. >> day 345, silence is the
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slave of fear. even though we treat fear like a king. [applause]. >> this is a piece about walking. [music]
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[applause]. [music]
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[applause]. >> thank you. >> foreign language speaking.