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Livros de Cabeceira e outras histórias

Todas as formas de cultura são fontes de felicidade!

Livros de Cabeceira e outras histórias

Todas as formas de cultura são fontes de felicidade!

And the Nobel goes to.... Bob Dylan!!!???

Charneca em flor, 13.10.16

Este ano, a atribuíção do Prémio Nobel da Literatura parecia um enredo de suspense. Normalmente, o laureado é anunciado na mesma altura que os laureados nas outras categorias e sempre antes do Prémio Nobel da Paz. Desta vez o comité do Prémio Nobel da Literatura não estava a chegar a um concenso, segundo se consta. Daí o anúncio ter adiado para hoje. Por acaso estava a ouvir a TSF no momento do anúncio e fiquei muito surpreendida com a atribuíção ao músico americano Bob Dylan. Nunca tinha acontecido a atribuição a um homem da palavra cantada. Para mim, a poesia que se faz para ser cantada é tão importante como a poesia dos livros. A música é a maneira de tornar a poesia acessível a todos.

A  secretária-geral da Real Academia Sueca, Sara Danius, justificou a atribuíção a Dylan "por ter criado novas expressões poéticas na tradição da canção americana". Pelo menos este ano o laureado é conhecido em todo o mundo ao contrário de anos anteriores. Quantas vezes o Nobel vai para autores obscuros desconhecidos até para o mais literato?

Agora é só apreciar

 

 

Like a rolling stone

 

Once upon a time you dressed so fine

Threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?

People call say 'beware doll, you're bound to fall'

You thought they were all kidding you

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 your next meal

 

How does it feel, how does it feel?

To be without a home

Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

 

Ahh you've gone to the finest schools, alright Miss Lonely

But you know you only used to get juiced in it

Nobody's ever taught you how to live out on the street

And now you're gonna have to get used to it

You say you never compromise

With the mystery tramp, but now you realize

He's not selling any alibis

As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes

And say do you want to make a deal?

 

How does it feel, how does it feel?

To be on your own, with no direction home

A complete unknown, like a rolling stone

 

Ah you never turned around to see the frowns

On the jugglers and the clowns when they all did tricks for you

You never understood that it ain't no good

You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you

You used to ride on a chrome horse with your diplomat

Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat

Ain't it hard when you discovered that

He really wasn't where it's at

After he took from you everything he could steal

 

How does it feel, how does it feel?

To have on your own, with no direction home

Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone

Ahh princess on a steeple and all the pretty people

They're all drinking, thinking that they've got it made

Exchanging all precious gifts

But you better take your diamond ring, you better pawn it babe

You used to be so amused

At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used

Go to him he calls you, you can't refuse

When you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose

You're invisible now, you've got no secrets to conceal

 

How does it feel, ah how does it feel?

To be on your own, with no direction home

Like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone