Forever Young

By Robert Zimmerman (Bob Dylan)

May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

Comments : Been listening to this song a lot the last few weeks... it has this comforting feeling - like advice your mum would give if she was nearby , a little preachy but touching. Especially liked the lyrics in the last paragraph that speaks of having a strong foundation when the winds of changes shift as well your heart being joyful and your song always be sung. beautiful, simple and rather moving. at some level it reminded me of my school anthem ...invokes a childhood warm fuzzy feeling...
This song was written and sung by Bob Dylan of course (Robert Zimmerman was his name) and many versions by other folk. Have been hearing the Dylan version and Joan Baez one.
- Soma

The Past is such a Curious Creature

By Emily Dickinson

The Past is such a curious creature,
To look her in the face
A transport may reward us,
Or a disgrace.

Unarmed if any meet her,
I charge him, fly!
Her rusty ammunition
Might yet reply!

Comments : Thanks to S for this poem. Isn't it such a nicely stated caution against delving into the past too often ? - Zen

Innocent England

Background : The poem is a delicious satire that celebrates Lawrence’s contempt and indignation at the suppression of his exhibition of paintings in London in 1929; the authorities feared for public morals because he painted accurate anatomical details on his nudes. Read this for more information on the exhibition and the paintings therein.

Innocent England
By D.H.Lawrence

Oh what a pity, Oh! Don’t you agree
that figs aren’t found in the land of the free!

Fig trees don’t grow in my native land;
there’s never a fig-tree near at hand

when you want one; so I did without;
and that is what this row’s all about.

Virginal, pure policemen came
and hid their faces for very shame,

while they carried the shameless things away
to gaol, to be hid from the light of day.

And Mr. Mead, that old, old lily
Said: ‘Gross! coarse! hideous!’ – and I, like a silly

thought he meant the faces of the police-court officials,
and how right he was, and I signed my initials,

to confirm what he said: but alas, he meant
my pictures, and on the proceedings went.

The upshot was, my pictures must burn
that English artists might finally learn

when they painted a nude, to put a cache sexe on,
a cache sexe, a cache sexe, or else begone!

A fig-leaf; or, if you cannot find it
a wreath of mist, with nothing behind it.

A wreath of mist is the usual thing
In the north, to hide where the turtles sing.

Though they never sing, they never sing,
Don’t you dare to suggest such a thing

or Mr. Mead will be after you
- But what a pity I never knew

A wreath of English mist would do
As a cache sexe! I’d have put a whole fog.

But once and forever barks the old dog,
so my pictures are in prison, instead of in the Zoo.

Comments : Apart from the fact that this poem is hilarious, I think it is apt at a time when the moral police and the politically-correct-brigade are flexing their muscles so much – no defaming a living person, or dishonouring the memory of a noble soul, or hurting someone’s sentiments....; or else, 'Ban this movie ! Burn that book ! Slash this painting ! Vandalise this library !'
- By Zen

Say Not the Struggle Naught Availeth

By A.H.Clough

Say not the struggle naught availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke conceal'd,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light;
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!
But westward, look, the land is bright!

Comments : Found a lovely poem by A.H.Clough on the wondering minstrels blog and forwarded it to several friends. One of whom wrote back and directed me to this poem (Thanks A).
I really liked the imagery in this poem, especially 'for while the tired waves........in the main.'

On criticism

Comments : Came across two gems on criticism in a book of English translations of Sanskrit poems. Never realised the fuddy-duddy language had so much fun stuff - they only taught us the boring, moralistic poems in school. - Zen

The fire of envious critics’ tongues
Refines the true poetic gold.
Should we not celebrate in cheerful songs
Poor fools who give us benefits untold ?
- By Varahamihira


Strike me, and try me to your heart’s content
With fire and touchstone : I accept my fate.
But oh I bitterly resent
The fact that you should weigh me with a pennyweight.
- By Sudraka

Mr. Rock & Roll

- Amy Macdonald

So-called Mr Rock & Roll,
Is dancing on his own again,
Talking on his phone again,
To someone who tells him that his balance is low.
He's got nowhere to go, he's on his own again.

Rock Chick of the century,
Is acting like she used to be,
Dancing like there's no-one there.
Before she never seemed to care,
Now she wouldn't dare.
It's so Rock & Roll to be alone.

And they'll meet one day far away,
And say, 'I wish I was something more.'
And they'll meet one day far away,
And say, 'I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before.'

Mrs. Black & White she's never seen a shade of grey,
Always something on her mind,
Every single day.
But now she's lost her way,
And where does she go from here?

Mr. Multicultural sees all that one can see,
He's living proof of someone very different to me.
But now he wants to be free,
Free so he can see.
And they'll meet one day far away,
And say, 'I wish I was something more.'
And they'll meet one day far away,
And say, 'I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before.'

He'll say, 'I wish I knew you
I wish I met you when time was still on my side.'
She'll say, 'I wish I knew you
I wish I loved you before I was his bride.'

And so they must depart,
Two many more broken hearts.
But I've seen that all before,
In T.V, books, and film and more.
And there's a happy ending,
Every single day.

And they'll meet one day far away,
And say, 'I wish I was something more.'
And they'll meet one day far away
And say, 'I wish I knew you, I wish I knew you before

Comments : A friend introduced me to this song yesterday and I was hooked in the very first minute, both by the lively tune and by Amy’s voice, and then drawn in further by the interesting character names – Mr. Rock & Roll, Mrs. Black and White, Mr. Multicultural. The descriptions say it all, Mr. Rock and Roll speaking on the phone to someone who’s only telling him his balance is low, what better way to describe being alone and having no one to speak to ? Or Mr. Multicultural, who ironically, wants to be free so that he can see.

p.s. If you haven’t heard the song yet, listen to the video here and a live performance here.

By,
Zen

The Wind That Shakes the Barley

Robert Dwyer Joyce

I sat within the valley green, I sat me with my true love
My sad heart strove the two between, the old love and the new love
The old for her, the new that made me think on Ireland dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glen and shook the golden barley

'Twas hard the woeful words to frame to break the ties that bound us
But harder still to bear the shame of foreign chains around us
And so I said, "The mountain glen I'll seek at morning early
And join the bold united men," while soft winds shake the barley

While sad I kissed away her tears, my fond arms round her flinging
A yeoman's shot burst on our ears from out the wildwood ringing
A bullet pierced my true love's side in life's young spring so early
And on my breast in blood she died while soft winds shook the barley

I bore her to some mountain stream, and many's the summer blossom
I placed with branches soft and green about her gore-stained bosom
I wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse then rushed o'er vale and valley
My vengeance on the foe to wreak while soft wind shook the barley

But blood for blood without remorse I've taken at Oulart Hollow
And laid my true love's clay cold corpse where I full soon may follow
As round her grave I wander drear, noon, night and morning early
With breaking heart when e'er I hear the wind that shakes the barley.

Comments : The background to the title of this poem itself justifies running it. Thanks to Nikhil for the poem and the context : It's from a 19th Century poem that tells of a young Irish boy who soon will leave his sweetheart to join others fighting the English in the 1798 rebellion. They would carry barley in their pockets as provisions on the march. When they were slain and their bodies pitched into unmarked mass graves by the English, from their bodies the sprouting barley came to symbolise that Irish resistance to the British would never die.

From wikipedia : 'The Wind That Shakes the Barley' is a 2006 Ken Loach film set during the Irish War of Independence (1919–1921) and the Irish Civil War (1922–1923). Written by long-time Loach collaborator Paul Laverty, this drama tells the story of two County Cork brothers, played by Cillian Murphy and Pádraic Delaney, who join the Irish Republican Army to fight for Irish independence from the United Kingdom. It takes its title from the song "The Wind That Shakes the Barley".