Supoño que nos colleu por sorpresa a nova de que Bob Dylan gañase o premio Nobel de Literatura deste ano, non si? Xa falaramos da súa relevancia nunha entrada previa, e pola miña parte, as letras de Dylan, coma as de Leonard Cohen ou Van Morrison, deben ser recoñecidas como o que son: verdadeiros poemas, obras de arte dignas de recoñecemento alén do seu valor puramente musical.
É apropiado, daquela, nun día especial coma este, recuperar unha das súas cartas, publicada na web de Letters of Note (onde podedes ler no seu texto íntegro) que Dylan escribiu aos editores de Broadside en xaneiro do 64, con vinte e dous anos, antes do lanzamento do seu terceiro album. Unha misiva longa e caprichosa coma este día de chuvia de outono onde Dylan fala do seu ascenso á fama, os cartos e a culpa que o acompañaron, e o seu amor por Suze Rotolo.
A LETTER FROM BOB DYLAN
for sis and gordon an all broads of good sizes
let me begin by not beginnin
let me start not by startin but by continuin
it sometimes gets so hard for me --
I am now famous
I am now famous by the rules of public famiousity
it snuck up on me
an pulverized me...
I never knew what was happenin
it is hard for me t walk down the same streets
I did before the same way because now
I truly dont know
who is waitin for my autograph...
I dont know if I like givin my autograph
oh yes sometimes I do...
(...)
people ask why do I write the way I do
how foolish
how monsterish
a question like that hits me...
it makes me think that I'm doin nothin
it makes me think that I'm not being heard
yes above all the mumble jumble an rave praises
an all the records I've sold... thru all the packed
houses I play... thru all the communication systems
an rants an bellows an yellin an clappin comes
a statement like "why do you do what you do"
what is this?
some kind of constipated idiot world?
some kind of horseshoe game we're all playin
responding only when a ringer clangs
no no no
not my world
everybody plays in my world
aint nobody first second third or fourth
everybody shoots at the same time
an ringers dont count
an everybody wins
an nobody loses
cause everybody lives an breathes
an takes up space
an cant be overlooked
an I am a people too
I cannot pretend I'm not
an I feel guilty
(...)
(...)
my mind sometimes runs like a roll of toilet paper
an I hate like hell t see it unravel an unwind
at my empty walls
(...)
(...)
I think of love in weird terms.
sometimes I even feel guilty about it
because I know I love sue
but I should love everybody like I love sue
an in all honesty I dont
I just love her that way
an I say what way?
an a voice says "that way"
an I get quite up tite
an I know I have a long way t go
when the day comes when I can love everything
that breathes the way I love sue then
(...)
I got a letter from Pete an he closed by sayin
"take it easy but take it" I thought about that
for an hour or more when I reached my conclusion
of what it really meant I either cried or laughed
(I cant remember which) I will repeat the same an
add "give it easy but give it" an I'll think about
that for an hour an at the end either cry or laugh
(I'll write you another letter an tell you which
one it is)
all right then
faretheewell
shaloom an vamoose
(...)
(...)
love t agnes
she is one of the true talents of the universe
I've always thought that an would like t see her
again some time
love t everybody in your house
see yuh
softly an sleepy
but ready an waitin
Bob Dylan
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