Also: https://azsf.net/cwdaily/2026/02/10/together-we-are-america/

The photo is from 18 March 1871 in Paris, France where attempts to remove cannons from Montmartre provoke resistance and the erection of barricades by Parisians that soon transformed into the autonomous Paris Commune.

English lyrics:

To the Barricades
To the barricades, to the barricades!
For bread, for justice and for freedom!

One, two, three, four!

Black storms tremble the sky,
Dark clouds blind the eyes,
Even if death and pain is awaiting us,
We must march to defeat them.
Freedom is our most valuable asset,
We must defend it with courage and faith.

To the barricades, to the barricades!
For bread, for justice and for freedom!

In our hearts, with our brothers,
The resistance is growing around the whole world.

To the barricades, to the barricades!
For bread, for justice and for freedom!

In our hearts, with our brothers,
The resistance is growing around the whole world.

To the barricades, to the barricades!
For bread, for justice and for freedom!

Turkish lyrics:

Haydi barikata, haydi barikata!
Ekmek, adalet ve özgürlük için (x3)

Yek, dü, se, car!

Kara fırtınalar sarsıyor göğü,
Kara bulutlar kör eder gözleri.
Ölüm ve acı beklese de bizleri,
Onları yenmek için yürümeliyiz.
Ve en değerli varlığımız özgürlük,
Cesaret ve inançla savunmalıyız.

Haydi barikata, haydi barikata!
Ekmek, adalet ve özgürlük için (x2)

Kalplerimizde, kardeşlerimizle,
Tüm dünyada büyüyor direniş.

Haydi barikata, haydi barikata!
Ekmek, adalet ve özgürlük için (x2)

Kalplerimizde, kardeşlerimizle,
Tüm dünyada büyüyor direniş.

Haydi barikata, haydi barikata!
Ekmek, adalet ve özgürlük için (x6)

Dwadzieścia fajek w mig,
I do kawy rum, rum, rum;
Dwie czyste, gorzkiej łyk,
a ty doktorku spójrz, spójrz, spójrz;

Coś szpetnie w piersiach gra,
cóż za odkrywczy fakt;
W karetkach znają nas,
a każdy jak brat, brat, brat;

Twych nerek dobry los,
Nie wróci do łask, łask, łask;
Zatkanych tętnic splot,
Już stracił swój blask, blask, blask;

Serce ma dziwny dźwięk,
sam nie wiem, co to jest?
Wszystko to głupstwo, więc
żyjesz fest, fest, fest, fest!

Cyrhoza, tromboza, gruźliczy kaszel,
Tuberkuloza, tak - to wszystko nasze;
Neuroza, skleroza, skrzypienie w plerach,
Paradontoza, no nie!, to już afera;
Ale w głębi naszych ciał
zdrowy mieszka duch,
A więc smutki - ciau,
Ju hu, hu, hu, hu!

Już zawał szczerzy kły,
Za nami o krok, krok, krok;
Zdechlaki zamknąć drzwi,
Bo wredny ma wzrok, wzrok, wzrok;

Adresy wasze zna,
I skryć się próżny trud;
Odnajdzie was raz-dwa,
I już nogami w przód, w przód, w przód;

W szpitalny wbiją strój,
Wesoło jak w Zoo, Zoo, Zoo;
Doktorów mądrych stu,
Obejrzy przez szkło, szkło, szkło;

Przez naszych trzewi treść,
Skalpela cięcia trzy;
Wesołą słychać pieśń,
Co tak znajomo brzmi, brzmi, brzmi;

Cyrhoza, tromboza, gruźliczy kaszel,
Tuberkuloza, tak to wszystko nasze;
Neuroza, skleroza, skrzypienie w plerach,
Paradontoza, no nie, to już afera;
Ale w głębi naszych ciał
Duch niezłomny tkwił,
Żyliśmy na schwał
lecz nie stało sił.

Tekst: https://www.kaczmarski.art.pl/tworczosc/wiersze/elekcja/

“They said women don’t lead wars.
They were wrong.”
ONNA MUSHA is a war anthem forged in silence, steel, and fire. Inspired by the real women of the Jōshitai and the legacy they refused to surrender, this video brings the battlefield to life — not as a myth, but as a memory that bleeds through.
This is not a fantasy. This is not fiction.
This is the echo of every woman who stood, fought, and didn’t fade.
🎥 Created scene by scene using a combination of AI-generated visuals and manual editing in iMovie, including precise timing, rhythm cuts, and cinematic layering
🎶 Lyrics, concept, and direction by Sumiko Nakano
🎧 Synthesized music and AI-generated vocals, mixed and supervised by the artist
🗡️ A tribute to Japan’s forgotten women warriors — the Onna Musha
🔥 Inspired by the historical book The Jōshitai: Unsung Heroines of the Boshin War
We fight in silence.
We ride like flame.
We come with blades.
And we. Don’t. Fade.
—
🎤 Released under the Kage‑Mei label

Autorka muzyki: Fanny Gordon
Autor słów: Ludwik Szmaragd

Wystąpili:

JAZZ BAND MŁYNARSKI MASECKI

Jan Emil Młynarski - śpiew
Marcin Masecki - pianino, aranżer, dyrektor muzyczny
Jerzy Rogiewicz - perkusja
Piotr Wróbel - suzafon
Jarosław Bothur - saksofon
Tomasz Duda - saksofon
Michał Fetler - saksofon

Koncepcja / Reżyseria / Montaż / FX: Kobas Laksa
Zdjęcia / Greenscreen: Kamil Płocki
Scenografia / Artefakty / Zielone kostiumy: Serpent Holder
Kostiumy / Rekwizyty / Głowy: Aleksandra Muha Markowska
Make Up / Głowy: Karolina Wałach
Kierownik Planu: Dawid Nowak

L'avi Siset em parlava
De bon matí al portal,
Mentre el sol esperàvem
I els carros vèiem passar.
Siset, que no veus l'estaca
On estem tots lligats ?
Si no podem desfer-nos-en
Mai no podrem caminar !

(refrain)
Si estirem tots, ella caurà
I molt de temps no pot durar :
Segur que tomba, tomba, tomba !
Ben corcada deu ser ja.
Si tu l'estires fort per aquí
I jo l'estiro fort per allà,
Segur que tomba, tomba, tomba
I ens podrem alliberar.

Però, Siset, fa molt temps ja :
Les mans se'm van escorxant,
I quan la força se me'n va
Ella és més ampla i més gran.
Ben cert sé que està podrida
Però és que, Siset, pesa tant
Que a cops la força m'oblida.
Torna'm a dir el teu cant É

L'avi Siset ja no diu res,
Mal vent que se l'emportà,
Ell qui sap cap a quin indret
I jo a sota el portal.
I mentre passen els nous vailets
Estiro el coll per cantar
El darrer cant d'en Siset,
El darrer que em va ensenyar

Traduction française

LE PIEU

Grand-père Siset en parlait ainsi
De bon matin sous le porche
Tandis qu'attendant le soleil
On regardait passer les chariots

Siset, ne vois tu pas le pieu
Où nous sommes tous ligotés ?
Si nous ne pouvons nous en défaire
Jamais nous ne pourrons avancer!

Si nous tirons tous, il tombera
Cela ne peut durer longtemps
C'est sûr qu'il tombera, tombera, tombera
Bien vermoulu, il doit être déjà

Si tu le tires fort par ici
Et que je le tire fort par là
C'est sûr il tombera, tombera, tombera
Et nous pourrons nous libérer

Mais Siset ça fait longtemps déjà
Mes mains à vifs sont écorchées!
Et alors que mes forces me quittent
Il est plus large et plus haut.

Bien sur, je sais qu'il est pourri
Mais aussi Siset, il est si lourd
Que parfois les forces me manquent
Rechante moi ta chanson.

Si nous tirons tous, il tombera
Cela ne peut durer longtemps
C'est sûr qu'il tombera, tombera, tombera
Bien vermoulu, il doit être déjà.

Si tu le tires fort par ici
Et que je le tire fort par là
C'est sûr il tombera, tombera, tombera
Et nous pourrons nous libérer.

Grand-père Siset ne dis plus rien
Un mauvais vent l'a emporté
Lui seul sait vers quel lieu
Et moi je reste sous le porche.

Et quand passent d'autres valets
Je lève la tête pour chanter
Le dernier chant de Siset
Le dernier qu'il m'a appris

Si nous tirons tous, il tombera
Cela ne peut durer longtemps
C'est sûr qu'il tombera, tombera, tombera
Bien vermoulu, il doit être déjà

Si tu le tires fort par ici
Et que je le tire fort par là
C'est sûr il tombera, tombera, tombera
Et nous pourrons nous libérer

Directed by Jem Cohen

Official Site: http://marcribot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/marcribot
Twitter: https://twitter.com/marcribotmusic

00:00:00 Carnival of the Animals Part: I. Introduction and Royal March of the Lion
00:02:24 Carnival of the Animals Part: II. Hens and Cocks
00:03:21 Carnival of the Animals Part: III. Wild Asses
00:04:02 Carnival of the Animals Part: IV. Tortoises
00:06:02 Carnival of the Animals Part: V. The Elephant
00:07:23 Carnival of the Animals Part: VI. Kangaroos
00:08:14 Carnival of the Animals Part: VII. Aquarium
00:10:26 Carnival of the Animals Part: IX. The Cuckoo in the Depths of the Woods
00:12:25 Carnival of the Animals Part: X. Aviary
00:13:43 Carnival of the Animals Part: XI. Pianists
00:15:09 Carnival of the Animals Part: XII. Fossils
00:16:24 Carnival of the Animals Part: XIII. the Swan
00:19:29 Carnival of the Animals Part: XIV. Final
00:21:31 Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 22 Part: I. Andante sostenuto
00:32:14 Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 22 Part: II. Allegro scherzando
00:38:19 Piano Concerto No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 22 Part: III. Presto
00:45:07 Introduction et rondo capriccioso, Op. 28

In this video, we delve into the rich orchestral textures and evocative melodies of the suite, featuring some of Grieg's most beloved pieces such as "Morning Mood," "Anitra's Dance," "In the Hall of the Mountain King," and "Solveig's Song." Each movement showcases Grieg's remarkable ability to paint vivid musical landscapes, from the serene dawn of a new day to the thrilling and ominous dance of the trolls.

00:00:00 Peer Gynt Suite No. 1, Op. 46 Part: I. Morning Mood
00:04:21 Peer Gynt Suite No. 1, Op. 46 Part: II. Death of Åse
00:09:51 Peer Gynt Suite No. 1, Op. 46 Part: III. Anitra's Dance
00:13:59 Peer Gynt Suite No. 2, Op. 55 Part: IV. Solveig's Song
00:19:55 Peer Gynt Suite No. 2, Op. 55 Part: I. The Abduction of the Bride, Ingrid's Lament
00:24:02 Peer Gynt Suite No. 2, Op. 55 Part: II. Arabian Dance
00:29:10 Peer Gynt Suite No. 2, Op. 55 Part: III. Peer Gynt's Homecoming, Stormy Evening on the Sea
00:31:45 Piano Concerto, Op. 16 Part: I. Allegro molto moderato
00:45:16 Piano Concerto, Op. 16 Part: II. Adagio
00:51:29 Piano Concerto, Op. 16 Part: III. Allegro moderato molto e marcato
01:02:17 Peer Gynt Suite No. 1, Op. 46 Part: IV. In the Hall of the Mountain King

Performers
(1) Tbilisi Symphony Orchestra

At the closing concert of the Lucerne Festival 2010, the Wiener Philharmoniker performed Maurice Ravel's probably most famous piece of music under the baton of Gustavo Dudamel: Boléro.

The concert was broadcast live in more than 50 cinemas in Europe on 18 September 2010.

Recording Date: 18 September 2010
Composers: Maurice Ravel
Orchestras: Wiener Philharmoniker
Conductors: Gustavo Dudamel
Director: Michael Beyer

Performed by Luke Kelly

All rights are reserved to the original authors.

==============================

In the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia
Down in the dark of the Cumberland Mine
There's blood on the coal and the miners lie
In roads that never saw sun nor sky. (x2)

In the town of Springhill, you don't sleep easy
Often the earth will tremble and roll
When the earth is restless, miners die
Bone and blood is the price of coal. (x2)

In the town of Springhill, Nova Scotia
Late in the year of fifty-eight
The day still comes and the sun still shines
(But it's) Dark as the grave in the Cumberland mine. (x2)

Down at the coal face, miners working
Rattle of the belt and the cutter's blade
Rumble of the rock and the walls closed round
(The) Living and the dead men two miles down. (x2)

Twelve men lay two miles from the pitshaft
Twelve men lay in the dark and sang
Long hot days in the miners tomb
(It was) Three feet high and a hundred long. (x2)

Three days past and the lamps gave out
And Caleb Rushton got up and and said
We've no more water, or light, or bread
(So we'll) Live on song and hope instead. (x2)

Listen for the shouts of the blackfaced miners
Listen thru the rubble for a rescue team
Three hundred feet of coal and slag
Hope imprisoned in a three foot seam. (x2)

Twelve days passes and some were rescued
Leaving the dead to lie alone
Thru all their days they dug their grave
Two miles of earth for a marking stone. (x2)

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,
a gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet,
an' to rise in the world he carried a hod

You see he'd a sort of a tipplers way
but the love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on his way each day,
he'd a drop of the craythur every morn

''[Chorus:]''
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer
partner around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One morning Tim got rather full,
his head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull,
and they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet,
and laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
and a barrel of porter at his head

''[Chorus]''

His friends assembled at the wake,
and Mrs Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tay and cake,
then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch

Biddy O'Brien began to cry,
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see
Tim avourneen, why did you die?",
"Will ye hould your gob?" said Paddy McGee

''[Chorus]''

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job,
"Biddy" says she "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the
gob and left her sprawling on the floor

Then the war did soon engage,
t'was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
and a row and a ruction soon began

''[Chorus]''

Mickey Maloney ducked his head when
a bucket of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and falling on the bed,
the liquor scattered over Tim

Bedad he revives, see how he rises,
Timothy rising from the bed
Saying "Whittle your whiskey around
like blazes, t'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?"

''[Chorus]