Long before Frank Sinatra and Bing Crosby, along with many other singers, endeared us with their titillating voices, William Shakespeare said with finality: “The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not mov’d with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils.” Shakespeare, the bard of Avon, found his ally in German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Without music, life would be a mistake.”
Long before the enticing songs of Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, Jo Stafford, et al, I and my better-half, human rights lawyer Rodolfo Lagoc (now across the Great Divide, allow me to be repetitious), had been enamored by love songs especially on a romantic night as we gazed at the moon.
Out of the many, I’m posting below three songs with enthralling lines about the moon:
Frank Sinatra
Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like on
A-Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me
Fill my heart with song and let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
Bing Crosby
I’ll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day through. In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children’s carousel
The chestnut trees
The wishin’ well
I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer’s day
In everything that’s light and gay
I’ll always think of you that way
I’ll find you In the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you
Jo Stafford
No other love can warm my heart
Now that I’ve known the comfort of your arms
No other love, oh the sweet contentment
That I find with you everytime, everytime
No other lips could want you more
For I was born to glory in your kiss, forever yours
I was blessed with love to love you
Till the stars burn out above you
Till the moon has bought a silver shine
No other love, let no other love
Know the wonder of your spell
I was blessed with love to love you
Till the stars burn out above you
Till the moon has bought a silver shine
No other love, let no other love know the wonder of your spell
***
Julia Carreon-Lagoc was a Panay News columnist for two decades. She pops up with Accents now and then. (jclagoc@gmail.com)/WDJ