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  • Mr. Tambourine Man- Excerpt

    Though you might hear laughing, spinning,
    Swinging madly across the sun,
    It's not aimed at anyone,
    It's just escaping on the run,
    And but for the sky
    There are no fences facing.
    And if you hear vague traces
    Of skipping wheels of rhyme
    To your tambourine in time,
    It's just a ragged clown behind,
    I wouldn't pay it any mind,
    It's just a shadow you're
    Seeing that he's chasing.


    -Bob Dylan (1964)

    Singer, songwriter, and musician Bob Dylan hailed from Hibbing, Minnesota, USA.  He began his musical ascent in the 1960s, consciously following in the steps of Woody Guthrie.  He has continued to perform to this day, going through phases that seem more or less removed from his early creative period.

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  • At the Moment-An Excerpt

     
    When the fire that burned has been ashes,
    And the stories have all been retold;
    The heat and the light will sustain us,
    Long after the hearth has grown cold.
     
    Grief has a place at the table,
    For it’s part of what we’re each made of,
    And it’ll stay long enough
    To remind us it’s mother is love.
     
    At the moment our lives become memory,
    And all of our dreaming is done;
    We shed what it is makes us different,
    And we don what it is makes us one.
     
    What is memory but time rendered timeless,
    Some small proof we each live anew;
    And I refuse to surrender
    That small part of me that is you.
     
    -John McCutcheon (2003)

    American folk musician, singer, and songwriter John McCutcheon touches on a wealth of human themes in his music.  One of his best loved and most popular songs is "Christmas in the Trenches," about an impromtu soccer game between German and British soldiers on the front during World War I.  According to the liner notes from the CD "Stand Up!" (2004), the song "At the Moment" was written to honor McCutcheon's old friend and frequent musical partner Freyda Epstein.

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  • He Lost his Life in the War

    All's the same, so what is the matter?
    The same sky is again azure.
    The same trees, the same air, the same water...
    Only he lost his life in the war.
     
    Late at night, in our rows,
    Who was right?  I'm not sure.
    I started to miss him only now
    When he lost his life in the war.
     
    He was shy when he spoke, couldn't carry a tune,
    His personal skills were poor.
    He'd wake me up and say, "Look at the moon!"
    And yesterday he lost his life in the war.
     
    The emptiness was growing old, tired,
    Suddenly it dawned on me- we had been two before.
    I shuddered as if a gust of wind blew out the fire
    For he lost his life in the war.
     
    Spring is bursting forth in a riot;
    By mistake I call out once more,
    "Leave me a smoke!" ... All falls quiet.
    Yesterday he lost his life in the war.
     
    Our dead will not leave us to suffer,
    Our fallen guard us anew.
    The sky reflects on the woods, as on water,
    And the trees stand, blue.
     
    Our time flowed for both, freely.
    In our hut, we never felt ourselves poor.
    Now that I'm alone, it seems to me
    It was I lost my life in the war.
     
    Vladimir Visotskiy, 1969
    Translated by Curtis Cooper in 2009
     
    About the poet:  Vladimir Visotskiy (1938-1980) was a very popular Russian actor, poet, and singer. Many of his lyrics expressed a desire to break beyond confinement and routine. This particular poem draws on one of his favorite themes, the sacrifice of Red Army soldiers in World War II.
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