Bob Dylan ha estat guardonat recentment amb el Premi Nobel de Literatura. Com és habitual, aquesta notícia ha generat opinions de tota mena. You can’t please everybody!
Per això, avui compartim uns quants fragments d’algunes de les cançons més populars de Dylan, seleccionades pel diari The Guardian. Llegiu-les i jutgeu vosaltres mateixos si Bob Dylan es pot considerar o no un poeta!
Who Killed Davey Moore?
“Not me,” says the gambling man
With his ticket stub still in his hand
“It wasn’t me that knocked him down
My hands never touched him none
I didn’t commit no ugly sin
Anyway, I put money on him to win
It wasn’t me that made him fall
No, you can’t blame me at all”
Idiot Wind
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth
You’re an idiot, babe
It’s a wonder that you still know how to breathe
Not Dark Yet
Every nerve in my body is so naked and numb
I can’t even remember what it was I came here to get away from
Don’t even hear the murmur of a prayer
It’s not dark yet but it’s gettin’ there.
Highway 61 Revisited
Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son.”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on.”
God say, “No.” Abe say, “What?”
God say, “You can do what you want, Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’, you better run.”
Blowin’ in the Wind
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind
Positively Fourth Street
I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you
Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you.
Chimes of Freedom
Far between sundown’s finish and midnight’s broken toll
We ducked inside the doorways, thunder went crashing
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing.
Masters of War
Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul
Mr Tambourine Man
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
Oh, but you who philosophise disgrace and criticise all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now’s the time for your tears
One Too Many Mornings
It’s a restless hungry feeling that don’t mean no one no good,
When everything I’m a-sayin’ you can say it just as good.
You’re right from your side, I’m right from mine.
We’re both just one too many mornings an’ a thousand miles behind
Love Minus Zero, No Limit
The bridge at midnight trembles
The country doctor rambles
Bankers’ nieces seek perfection
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring
The wind howls like a hammer
The night blows cold and rainy
My love she’s like some raven
At my window with a broken wing.
Desolation Row
The kerosene is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Shelter From the Storm
Twas in another lifetime
One of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue
The road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness
A creature void of form
Come in she said I’ll give ya
Shelter from the storm
The Times They Are a-Changin’
Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There’s a battle outside
And it is ragin’
It’ll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin’.
Hurricane
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool’s hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed
To live in a land
Where justice is a game
If You See Her Say Hello
I see a lot of people
As I make the rounds
And I hear her name here and there
As I go from town to town
And I’ve never gotten used to it
I’ve just learned to turn it off
Either I’m too sensitive
Or else I’m getting soft
The Man in the Long Black Coat
Every man’s conscience is vile and depraved
You cannot depend on it to be your guide when it’s you who must keep it satisfied.
Like a Rolling Stone
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hanging out
Now you don’t talk so loud
Now you don’t seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal
Font: https://www.theguardian.com/music/2016/oct/13/are-these-the-lyrics-that-won-bob-dylan-a-nobel-prize
