Another song

This song is not very beautiful, what lyrics are concerned: German have never been very good poets (whatever they may say), except for what a little bit of Rilke is concerned (Und wer wenn ich schriee, hörte mich aus der Engel Ordnungen?: and who, if I shouted, would hear me of angels ranks?). But Rilke got lost in Lou Andreas Salome’s arms, a horrible woman, and perhaps Nietzsche’s lover, though I don’t believe it, and thus, little was saved. (It’s not that they are not able to tell very synthetically dense and moving stories in verse: see ‘Die Füsse im Feuer’ from Meier, Goethe’s ‘Erlenkönig’ or Schiller’s ‘In Syrakus der Tyrann’ or something like this, it is that the language doesn’t help to build images trough metaphors or even sound. In fact they will still be longing for Burton’s ‘Tiger, tiger burning bright, in the forests of the night, what immortal hand or eye could frame your fearful symmetry?’)
Why? Because German don’t have tonic accents …
But this song has a long story, which was written down in an article of the ‘Spiegel’ around 1975/6. It is said that a German soldier wrote it during the first world war, having two lovers he couldn’t choose among. Sung by Zarah Leander in Berlin’s cabarets, it was forbidden by Goebbels during the second world war, as it was said ‘to undermine soldier’s morals’. Soldiers on the russian front did though protest so much, that authorities did finally have to give in. Some say it was the song that defeated the German … from inside. After, it was sung also by Marlene Dietrich though not that well.

Lilli Marlen
(I always adapt songs, so that texts are usually not exactly what they are.)
Aus dem tiefen Grunde, aus der Erde Laub,
hebt sich wie im Traume dein verliebter Mund,
wenn sich die späten Nebel dreh’n,
wer wird bei der Laterne stehen,
mit dir Lilli Marlen.

From the far depth, from the earth’s dry leaves,
arise like a dream your loving lips,
when the late mist does turn around,
who will stand at the gate’s lamp,
with you, Lilli Marlen.

Ironically to Cambridge

For the last 3451 years Cambridge’s explanation about present perfect has been: that you use it when the action is still going on.
How often though have we already had breakfast while still using the present perfect?
Hint: Try making the difference between the action and the time period where it is happening. Today is not yesterday, this week is not last week. You will then realize that you use the present perfect when the action is finished (!) (as otherwise you use a present continuos), but … the time period is not finished yet. I have had breakfast this morning, have seen my friend this week, but spoke to him last week and travelled to Ethiopia one year ago.
Ah … Cambridge! I always said I did merit the knight’s title for this marvellous improvement in language’s theory and … they have never considered.
It’s not all. On the limits of Cambridge limits in theory explanation we will still spend quite at lot of time. Don’t worry, dear, Oxford is not much better!
And the third world does sometimes have more light on twisty questions …

Evidence

I do always make mistakes.
Don’t think this is an excellent excuse in order to mention the somewhat petulant ‘errare humanum est’. (It’s human to make mistakes.)
Have you realized how many people think you speak Latin because you just use one horribly known sentence in latin once in a time?? (This is not my mother’s receipt, but try!)