K
Kate
Guest
A friend from my writing class started me thinking about Leonard Cohen. Good Grief – I was such a fan of his writing in the early seventies. I used to sit in my one bedroom flat in Prahran, an inner suburb of Melbourne, hugging my misery after my divorce. Cohen’s painful lyrics and voice became my pain – and I inflicted Cohen on all my friends.
One of my favourites at the time was
“So Long Marianne -
Come over to the window, my little darling,
I'd like to try to read your palm.
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
before I let you take me home.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.”
(Most of my Phillistine friends thought Cohen was woeful! They couldn’t see his deeper meanings, his pathos.
Well, maybe I was a little bit maudlin having been recently divorced. My emotions were throbbing to Cohen’s refrains. I actually used the "read your palm" bit on a lovely young man I met at a pub - successfully I might add. We had a brief but loving relationship.
I went back to Cohen and sat and drank heaps of cheap red wine and wallowed in my misery and loneliness:
“Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
but now it's come to distances and both of us must try,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.”
(I’m hoping as I read this out to my writing group that my friend can sing! I’ve got a voice like a frog).
“I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.”
I had forgotten just how good Cohen’s verse was. Such as:
“Teachers
I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.
I met a girl across the sea,
her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.”
And so on. I was prompted to search the net for Cohen after speaking to my friend tonight (4/6/05) and was amazed to see him performing with Bono and still alive and kicking.
Way to go!!!
One of my favourites at the time was
“So Long Marianne -
Come over to the window, my little darling,
I'd like to try to read your palm.
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
before I let you take me home.
Now so long, Marianne, it's time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.”
(Most of my Phillistine friends thought Cohen was woeful! They couldn’t see his deeper meanings, his pathos.
Well, maybe I was a little bit maudlin having been recently divorced. My emotions were throbbing to Cohen’s refrains. I actually used the "read your palm" bit on a lovely young man I met at a pub - successfully I might add. We had a brief but loving relationship.
I went back to Cohen and sat and drank heaps of cheap red wine and wallowed in my misery and loneliness:
“Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye
I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
but now it's come to distances and both of us must try,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.”
(I’m hoping as I read this out to my writing group that my friend can sing! I’ve got a voice like a frog).
“I'm not looking for another as I wander in my time,
walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme
you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't untie,
your eyes are soft with sorrow,
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.”
I had forgotten just how good Cohen’s verse was. Such as:
“Teachers
I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.
I met a girl across the sea,
her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.”
And so on. I was prompted to search the net for Cohen after speaking to my friend tonight (4/6/05) and was amazed to see him performing with Bono and still alive and kicking.
Way to go!!!