They are ill discoverers that think there is no land, when they can see nothing but the sea.
- Sir Francis Bacon.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Closing Time


My country: the sun setting beyond the Cretan hills


The wonderful surprises that only summer can bring...or, how just one night can get you on the right track. A word, a touch, a sunset, the beach and then a wonderful concert and the lyrics are aglow with meaning and substance.

And no, it is only tomorrow that I am leaving for the traditional August vacations (and I will never say again that something like that will be boring beacause summer does have its ways of surprising us) but I have not been staying at home much these last two weeks, so that is why I have posted close to nothing.

I will not be away for the whole August but I will not be posting till September. I have a mind to follow by mood the eventides of the academic year, you see.... Old habits die hard.

For this temporary leave of absence (and with your permission of course...;), kind readers, I would like to share with you one of the later songs by that wonderful gentleman, the true master of emotional eloquence, the one and only, Leonard Cohen: Closing Time








Closing Time

Ah we're drinking and we're dancing
and the band is really happening
and the Johnnie Walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
she's the Angel of Compassion
she's rubbing half the world against her thigh
And every drinker every dancer
lifts a happy face to thank her
the fiddler fiddles something so sublime
all the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots
and it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops:
it's closing time

Yeah the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots
and it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops:
it's closing time

Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit's crying, "Where's the beef?"

And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief

So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but closing time...

I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
closing time

I loved you for your beauty
but that doesn't make a fool of me:
you were in it for your beauty too
and I loved you for your body
there's a voice that sounds like God to me
declaring, declaring, declaring that your body's really you
And I loved you when our love was blessed
and I love you now there's nothing left
but sorrow and a sense of overtime
and I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don't care what happens next
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
it's closing time

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it's something in between, I guess
it's closing time

Yeah we're drinking and we're dancing
but there's nothing really happening
and the place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night
And my very close companion
gets me fumbling gets me laughing
she's a hundred but she's wearing
something tight
and I lift my glass to the Awful Truth
which you can't reveal to the Ears of Youth
except to say it isn't worth a dime
And the whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it's once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don't like these dizzy heights
we're busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights
of closing time

The whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it's once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don't like these dizzy heights
we're busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights
of closing time

Oh the women tear their blouses off the men they dance on the polka-dots
It's closing time
And it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops
It's closing time
I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
It's closing time
The Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
But closing time...
I loved you when our love was blessed
I love you now there's nothing left
But closing time...
I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex.




So, for now, kind readers, enjoy the rest of the summer and stay tuned... the Bishop will remember you in his benedictions.




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Sunday, August 3, 2008

One candle

"One candle left to burn now... before the darkness comes"

(Vincent Price, from the House of Usher film, 1960)







PS: Crete, summer of 2002 or 2003, at the ruined house next to ours.


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