Leonard CohenI fought against the bottle,
But I had to do it drunk.
Took my diamond to the pawnshop,
But that don’t make it junk.
I know that I’m forgiven,
But I don’t know how I know.
I don’t trust my inner feelings,
You know, inner feelings come and go.
From: The Book of Longing, 2006
Van Zandt 4/29/09I woke up so thirsty
in the middle of the night
I reached out
for the glass of water
knocked it down instead
diamonds are just dirt
not even fancy dirt to me
when they are all fixed up
they look pretty in the light
the water, it ran quickly
over the table, down the side
then on the floor
it took off running
I wasn't happy to see it happen
in my surprise I was not upset
I can't defend why I don't dance...
lessons might take care of that
I never cry at weddings
or tickle babies with delight
(unless they're mine)
and I ain't standing in line for paradise.
Maybe I was wired as a prototype
I hope the final version does it all
went to the city to meet myself a stranger
met him there, his woman by his side
I forgot that first we are all wedded to a woman
before we can learn to love somebody else
and if that woman doesn't love you thoroughly
you will never learn it by yourself
the price of diamonds is
whatever you...or I
make believe it is
I think fancy dirt
for you,
they are pure translucent wonder
the spilled water
ran in all directions
it reported back
by glistening in the dark, like diamonds
the cat came up to satisfy his curiosity
and drank everything the moonlight pointed out
the stranger's woman waited patiently
I did my best with no entitlement
she shared her man, the trust implicit
starting over and over again... he, so old and wise
then shared me with him or both to one another
she was in the doorway, I let myself in
he was going through his daily hiccups
trying to act all suave
like it was normal everyday Chiclets
you know, like everyone else must surely have
diamonds in your ears,
diamonds on your wrist,
even the diamond in your heart,
now in the total darkness
I can't see them anymore
but I can hear you breathe
soft as a whisper now
water in the glass
or water spilled
you're never sure,
sometimes the water is yours to drink
or you might serve the water to the floor
you move, you learn, it's hard to tell
if it was meant to drink or spill
clear as a diamond in the glass
or shinning diamond puddles on the floor
flying home I'm reading a book of poems
thirty two thousand feet above the earth
and about as many loves deep
by page thirty five the poet dances undressed
and the moon lay sweating between the sheets
the flight attendant reads him over my shoulder
and cries
she cries that she can no longer dance like that
you can wear a diamond on your finger
it will look that way forever
when you spill the liquid diamonds
in the middle of the night
only you and possibly the cat
will see that diamond mine but once
after a while the stranger leaned on me
and slept like a cat content
milk trickling down his chin
and he puckered up a smile the kind
only a dreaming man can grin
you dance the way you feel
might just do it standing still
you can take somebody home
though they are staying far away
you can pack a book of poetry
and find that you brought home
some Chiclets sneaked in slyly
tucked way back inside the bag
the memory you did not pack
hands reach out for water
frequently in the night
you grab and drink it
or miss and spill it
you dance like a dervish
or stand and soak it in
you go visit with the stranger
and then go home again
you aren't so much like others
neither pretty much is he
you take in what you can handle
and let the rest of the river by
I let others fix the price of diamonds
and look for diamond rivers on the floor
I close The Book of Longing slowly
but I'll be back again
I've liked Chiclets
since I was a little child
nothing about that has changed at all
Leonard CohenI fought against the bottle,
But I had to do it drunk –
Took my diamond to the pawnshop –
But that don’t make it junk.
From: The Book of Longing, 2006
