Σωτηρία Μπέλλου Sotiria Bellou 1- rebetiko-rembetiko
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- Опубликовано: 19 дек 2012
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Sotiria Bellou (Greek: Σωτηρία Μπέλλου) (August 22, 1921 -- August 27, 1997) was a famous Greek singer and performer of the Greek rebetiko style of music.[1] She was one of the most famous rebetisa[2] of all, mentioned in many music guides, and a contributor to the 1984 British Documentary entitled Music of the Outsiders.
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Η καλύτερη τραγουδίστρια που πέρασε. Μπράβο για την δουλειά σας.
Ταπεινός άνθρωπος, καθαρή ψυχή
Δεν έχω να πω κάτι άλλο!
Δεν υπάρχη ούτε ένας τέτοιος άνθρωπος σήμερα..
Ένας ζωντανός θρύλος.
Δωρική. Τέλεια.
Δεν ξέρω εάν κάποτε θα βρεθεί φωνή. Να συνεχίσει αυτό που άφησε..
Σας ευχαριστώ πάρα πολυ η Παναγία να σας προσέχει παντοτε
Η Βασίλισσα που ποτέ καί κανείς δέν θά μπορέση ποτέ , μά ποτέ νά τήν ρίξη...Θά είναι Αιώνια ...Μία καί μοναδική Σωτηρία Μπέλλου καί δέν θά ξαναγεννηθή ποτέ άλλη...Τό ουδείς αναντικατάστατος δέν ισχύει γιά τήν Θεά ...τήν δική μας καί λατρεμμένη ΣΩΤΗΡΙΑ ΜΠΕΛΛΟΥ.
Εύγε φιλαράκι για το ανέβασμα!!!!!
ΜΠΕΛΛΟΥ ΣΩΤΗΡΙΑ ΦΩΝΗ ΣΤΟ ΡΕΜΠΕΤΙΚΟ ΠΟΥ ΔΕΝ ΘΑ ΞΑΝΑΒΓΕΙ
ho conosciuto sotiria:era seduta sulla seggiola.HO PARLATO CON LEI.QUALE EMOZIONE ! LA SUA VOCE,unica
SONO AMANTE DELLA MUSICA GRECA,NOSTALGIA TANTA.MICHELE è UN CARO AMICO.COMPLIMENTI PER LE TUE Capacità LINGUISTICHE.RISPONDI.........
Σεμνός Ανθρωπος
Ξεχωριστή Φωνή.
Καμια σαν και αυτη...μοναδικη μεγαλη αξεπεραστη...
Sotiria bouboulina
Sotiria Bellou
Freckles splatter your face
Making you look like
A silhouette of womankind
Covered in lace over blood
Over blood, your period
Over the microphone comes
Your period. Time after time
Your period in pain and discomfort
This song rises like the
Prayer of a mystic
Cryptically from a twenty-
Year Old’s mouth. Your lips, once
Taped shut by the government,
Burst open with the strength
From the period of laughter. The cross
Of your handcuffs lock you into a life of hanging.
Who can die not listening, when-
Money, dripping blood, grins and winks at you?
The seduction by wealth
Could have captured your song.
Singer of Outcasts. Outcast of Singers.
Those who marched right,
Marched right. No one reflected
Blame. No one marched wrong.
In the rooms in which you friends
Bent this way and that
Stretched over cane chairs
into aches and pains
Then beaten and lashed.
You knew them all and sang about
Their periods, as if they were your own.
What beatings slept in your wallet?
What lashing shone sunlight which
Burned into broken vessels
Of blood beneath you emotional skin?
Your voice forces the hair on the back of
My arms to stand erect and salute.
The hair on the back of my neck
Stabs through the fabric of my shirt
Again and again and again. Born
In the sorrows of August, Nineteen Twenty-One
Dead in August of Nineteen Ninety-Seven,
Your videoed presence makes me aware of heaven.
You make me all uneven in
My skin. Your voice singing
Outcast songs injects itself
Into my jaws and like a
Dentist’s Novocain, tingles the
Bite of my soul. Oh, glorious,
Woman of all Outcasts, I am forced
To believe in some sort of resurrection.
If only to be able to hear you sing, re-lived.
Dear sir - Your verses lauding the great artist are sublime, and very moving for me. I heard this lady's recordings in 1984-85 on radio in Berkeley California. I had never heard such a voice with that quality. The times and "periods" she witnessed are there, though I do not know the details. I know the "outcasts" and many good people of Greece suffered greatly through those times. You have done a beautiful thing to honor her in this way. Blessings...
fwnara me apla logia
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