That deep, gravelly golden Voice

12 03 2011

We came back late. Your room was dark but you just switch on a single lamp. You know I didn’t like to drink. Under the weak light, you went to your rows of CDs strewn on the floor. The soft hiss of the player cover opens as you pop one in. You didn’t say a word, you just let the music play:


“Suzanne takes you down

to her place near the river

you can hear the boats go by

you can spend the night beside her

And you know that she’s half crazy

but that’s why you want to be there

and she feeds you tea and oranges

that come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her

that you have no love to give her

she gets you on her wavelength

and she lets the river answer

that you’ve always been her lover

And you want to travel with her

you want to travel blind

and you know that she can trust you

for you’ve touched her perfect body

with your mind


That was the first time I heard this deep, gravelly golden voice. “Who is this?” I asked. “Don’t you know? It’s Leonard Cohen.” It must have been more than 15 years ago. You and I have both aged, You and I have both been through sorrows. But he still keeps on singing, singing, singing……




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