Tutti abbiamo udito la donnetta che dice: “Oh, è terribile quel che fanno questi giovani a se stessi, secondo me la droga è una cosa tremenda”. Poi tu la guardi, la donna che parla in questo modo: è senza occhi, senza denti, senza cervello, senz’anima, senza culo, né bocca, né calore umano, né spirito, niente, solo un bastone, e ti chiedi come avran fatto a ridurla in quello stato i tè con i pasticcini e la chiesa.
VIOLETTA VALÉRY and Teneste la promessa… Addio, del passato.
Who’s she: One of the most celebrated courtesans in Paris
In love with: Alfredo Germont
Cause of death: Tuberculosis and bourgeois morality
Appears in:La Traviata (1853)
Addio, del passato bei sogni ridenti, Le rose del volto già sono pallenti; L'amore d'Alfredo perfino mi manca, Conforto, sostegno dell'anima stanca Ah, della traviata sorridi al desio; A lei, deh, perdona; tu accoglila, o Dio, Or tutto finì.
Le gioie, i dolori tra poco avran fine, La tomba ai mortali di tutto è confine!
Non lagrima o fiore avrà la mia fossa, Non croce col nome che copra quest'ossa! Ah, della traviata sorridi al desio; A lei, deh, perdona; tu accoglila, o Dio, Or tutto finì.
(Farewell, happy dreams of the past;
the roses in my cheeks are already faded.
I’m even lacking Alfredo’s love,
to comfort and sustain my weary soul!
Ah, smile upon this fallen woman!
Forgive her, accept her, oh God!
Ah, now all is finished!
Joys and sorrow soon will end.
The tomb is the end for all mortals!
My grave will have no tears or flowers!
No cross with a name will cover these bones!
Ah, smile upon this fallen woman!
Forgive her, accept her, oh God!
Ah, now all is finished!)
Violetta’s reading of the letter culminates in her anguished exclamation that it may be too late: ‘È tardi!’. She briefly rallies before realizing that it is all in vain. She starts to weep for her prematurely wasted life and dreams, before commending her soul to Heaven and asking for forgiveness in one of he greatest arias in all Italian opera, ‘Addio, del passato’. (…)
Violetta’s anguish over her ‘fossa’, a desolate mass grave, with no-one to mourn for her, is rendered more poignant by our knowledge that far from being anonymous and forgotten, Marie Duplessi’s tomb is honoured to this day because Marguerite and Violetta. For 170 years it has been among the most visited sepulchres in Paris.
René Weis: The Real Traviata: The Song of Marie Duplessis, p. 307.
That chilling second stance of Addio, del passato (that was unfortunately cut from so many performances in the past) has always impressed me, and I can’t help but thinking in the passages of La Dame aux Camélias which take place in the cemetery, e.g., the conversation between the narrator and one of the gardeners:
They tell me there were people who ruined themselves over that girl, and
lovers that worshipped her; well, when I think there isn’t one of them
that so much as buys her a flower now, that’s queer, sir, and sad. And,
after all, she isn’t so badly off, for she has her grave to herself, and
if there is only one who remembers her, he makes up for the others. But
we have other poor girls here, just like her and just her age, and they
are just thrown into a pauper’s grave, and it breaks my heart when I
hear their poor bodies drop into the earth. And not a soul thinks about
them any more, once they are dead! ‘Tisn’t a merry trade, ours,
especially when we have a little heart left. What do you expect?
00:00:00 soulmate thread for Naiazj?? (Not connected to our original thread)
The Vi’i had been alone for years. Originally, he had been taking upon his father’s duties, and then leading his people to found his city, and then learning all he could about the dragons- his counter on his wrist hadn’t really been on his thoughts until his grandmother mentioned that it was getting low as she left his office in Avran with a smile. Just then, a servant announced the envoy from Asgard. Naiazj watched his four-armed grandmother look the man up and down, clearly not impressed, before leaving.
Tutti abbiamo udito la donnetta che dice: “Oh, è terribile quel che fanno questi giovani a se stessi,secondo me la droga è una cosa tremenda”. Poi tu la guardi, la donna che parla in questo modo: è senzaocchi, senza denti, senza cervello, senz'anima, senza culo, né bocca, né calore umano, né spirito, niente, solo un bastone, e ti chiedi come avran fatto a ridurla in quello stato i tè con i pasticcini e la chiesa.
(naganye) Yiviria was unsure what she had been expecting in this place. She had come with soldiers to help rebuild after Aesirae’s destruction, and she found it curious, to say the least. It was all wood, wood and water, and she was well aware of the looks they were getting as they were led to be received by the King.
Aradir walked ahead of her, a silver and steel circlet upon his head. He was only able to stay for one or two nights, given that someone had to rule Avran now that Aesirae was gone, but Yiviria was keen to stay to help them restore their kingdom.
That, and the other obvious reason, of course. One couldn’t tell underneath her armour what was inside her, but she could very much feel it. Yiviria scowled inwardly at Aradir as they approached the throne.
Legolas was, to put it plainly, exhausted. It was a mixture of loneliness and constant trips into the burned shell of his home to encourage the soft sprouts to grow once more. His hair had lost its natural shine and there were dark smudges under normally bright blue eyes, but joy flooded his system at the sight of his lovers, making those eyes glint brightly.
One moment he was at his father’s side, the perfect portrait of a prince in his light armor and a beautiful silver circlet on his brow, and the next he had flown across the room throwing himself into Aradir’s arms. Long golden hair swirled around them as he giggled.
“You came!” He breathed, a slight sob of relief breaking through his words. “Both of you came!”
SINCERAMENTE, TODOS PODEMOS SHIPPEAR LO QUE NOS DIGA NUESTRO CULO O LO QUE SE NOS ANTOJE, PERO SI NOSOTRAS LAS QUE SHIPPEAMOS WIGETTA, NO QUEREMOS SHIPPEAR SILGETTA O COMO MIERDA SE DIGA, TAMBIÉN RESPETEN, SU PUTA MADRE, ¿O QUÉ?, ¿AHORA POR SUS "PRUEBAS" TENEMOS QUE CREER EL SILGETTA? POR FAVOR, NOS DICEN INMADURAS Y MILES DE PENDEJADAS MÁS, PERO SE VEN IGUAL DE PENDEJAS, ES MÁS, EN SÍ POR HABLAR DE SHIPS ESTAMOS TODAS, TODAS PENDEJAS, PERO SI ESTAMOS PENDEJAS, ¿POR QUÉ NO NOS DEJAN SER ASÍ? OTRA COSA, NO POR QUE CREAN EN SILGETTA TAMBIÉN SON MAS INTELIGENTES, CARAJO, PORQUE LAS ESTOY VIENDO COMO SE LUSTRAN (AL MENOS LA MAYORÍA) DE QUE SU SHIP (SÍ, SHIP, PORQUE TODAVÍA NO ESTÁ CONFIRMADO, ASÍ QUE SIGUE SIENDO UN SHIP LES GUSTE O NO) ES MÁS VERÍDICO PORQUE SE LES PEGUE EN GANA, Y VAN A SEGUIR, Y LO VUELVO A DECIR, SE RESPETA QUE SHIPPEEN LO QUE QUIERAN, PERO DEJEN QUE LOS DEMÁS CREAN EN LO QUE QUIERAN Y NO VAYAN DE "SÍ, POR TAL COSITA YA ES REAL Y ME LA SUDAN TODOS, SJDJDBDB, TODAS SON INMADURAS, SKFKFJF, SOY LA DIOSA SUPREMA, AKDKSLDHDJDJ, DENME ATENCIÓN". PUES ME GUSTA SER INMADURA PORQUE ASÍ SOY, PERO ESO PUEDE CAMBIAR, PRECISAMENTE POR LO ANTERIOR, EL SENTIRTE SUPERIOR POR EL SILGETTA TAMBIÉN. ASÍ QUE SI ESTÁS HACIENDO TODO EL ESCÁNDALO PORQUE TE PICA LA COLA, MÉTETE EL PINCHE DEDO, RÁSCATE Y DEJA DE JODER, PORQUE ASÍ, TAMBIÉN NOSOTRAS LO DEJAREMOS DE HACER.
Y ya vi que tienen su tag. Mejor vayan allá y dejen de comentar en algunas publicaciones cosas como: “buijeta no en real wexdxdxd, ia maduren como io, xk soi un ejemplo a seguir, wexdxdxd. Exaz no zon pruevaz suphixienthez, xdxdxd, el silgetta tiene +, avran los ojoz komo kiero k me avran el horto. En mi kza no me asen kzo xdxdxd” Besos en sus corazones, en serio :v 💕