Crossroads

As I recall there comes this time in our lives, when you're no longer sure the path you're on is the right path. The very essence of our lives is the endless stream of choosing. Most of the time it's rather trivial, but more often than not, you're at the major crossroad. Continuing on a path you've been on, although it doesn't seem to lead to where you want it, or face something new and unknown. And whichever you choose you might loose something, but yet you might gain something as well. The only certain thing is you shouldn't stop at the crossroad for to long...

There's a legend connecting crossroads with devil. The story is, that people should avoid traveling through remote crossroads at midnight- or the devil might show himself to them and try to steal their soul. One of the fathers of blues music, Robert Johnson even claimed he sold his soul to the devil at the crossroad in exchange for guitar skills that made him famous. Although most likely his own fabrication for promotion of his music, yet the legend is much older than blues. And the punch line of this entry? I don't know, I guess I have a feeling I'm almost at my crossroad and I don't want to stay there for to long...
For closure of this (let's face it- a bit depressing) blog entry, and for welcoming the start of autumn, I wanted to post a video of Stephanie Biddle singing French jazz song Les feuilles mortes (The autumn leaves). I couldn't find it, so here's lyrics, and the video performed by some other singer.

Oh! I would like as much as you remember
The happy days where we were friends.
In this time the life was more beautiful,
And the sun more burning than today.
The dead leaves collected with the shovel.
You see, I did not forget...
The dead leaves collected with the shovel,
The memories and the regrets also
And the wind of North carries them
In the cold night of the lapse of memory.
You see, I did not forget
The song that you sang me.

This is a song which resembles to us.
You, you loved me and I loved you
And we lived both together,
You who loved me, me who loved you.
But the life separate those which love themselves,
All softly, without making noise
And the sea erases on the sand
The Steps of divided lovers.

The dead leaves collected with the shovel,
The memories and the regrets also
But my quiet and faithful love
Smiles always and thanks the life
I loved you so much, you was so pretty.
Why do you want that I forget you ?
In this time, the life was more beautiful
And the sun more burning than today.
You were my softer friend
But I don't have only to make regrets
And the song than you sang,
Always, always I will hear it !