woensdag 28 januari 2009

... "Democracy" (Leonard Cohen, 1992) ...


It's coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It's coming from the feel
that this ain't exactly real,
or it's real, but it ain't exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don't pretend to understand at all.

It's coming from the silence on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered heart of Chevrolet:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin' that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray for the grace of God
in the desert here and the desert far away:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

It's coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It's here they got the range and the machinery for change
and it's here they got the spiritual thirst.
It's here the family's broken
and it's here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open in a fundamental way:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It's coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we'll be making love again.
We'll be going down so deep the river's going to weep,
and the mountain's going to shout Amen!
It's coming like the tidal flood beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious, in amorous array:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on ...

I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can't stand the scene.
And I'm neither left or right
I'm just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I'm junk but I'm still holding up this little wild bouquet:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

1 opmerking:

The Stranger zei

ze breken zich op
de stenen van Tiān'ānmén
omdat het zo beter is
en anders hun stemmen
niet gehoord worden
in de hoogste zalen
van de kille stad

en wij nemen foto's
om altijd te vergeten
wat zich niet meer
van mijn netvlies brandt

ze sterven op het plein
voor de eeuwige vrede
omdat alles beter wordt

en wij begraven slechts
de namen
proberen voor eeuwig
te verbergen
wat onuitwisbaar is
vermengd met het bloed
van de aarde

wappert de vlag verder
een beetje dieper rood
in de ondergaande zon