Make a Dream

And summer goes

Falls to the sidewalk like string and brown paper.

Winter blows, up from the river,

There's no one to take her

To the sea.

Like magazines

Fading in dusty grey attics and cellars

Make a dream, dream back to summer

And hear how he tells her,

"Wait for me".

(Joni Mitchell, Marcie, 1968)

You and Me

If the sun refused to shine

I would still be loving you.

When mountains crumble to the sea

There will still be you and me.

(Led Zeppelin, Thank You, 1969)

Dedicado a R, principio y fin.

I ran away in the morning

New York tendaberry

Blue berry

A rush on rum

Of brush and drum

And the past is a blue note

Inside me

I ran away in the morning

Now I'm back

Unpacked

Sidewalk and pigeon

You look like a city

But you feel like a religion

To me

(Laura Nyro, New York tendaberry, 1969)

...but the levee was dry

We were singing,
Bye-bye, Miss American Pie.
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.
Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye
Singing, "this'll be the day that I die,
this'll be the day that I die."

Helter Skelter in a summer swelter.
The Byrds flew off with a fallout shelter.
Eight miles high and falling fast,
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With the jester on the sidelines in a cast.

(Don McLean, American Pie, 1971)

LEDESMA 9

Let's get away, you say, find a better place,

Miles and miles away from the city's race,

Look around for someone lying in the sunshine

Marking time,

Hear the sighs,

Close your eyes...

Time passes all too soon, how it rushes by,

Now a thousand moons are about to die

No time to reflect on what the time was spent on,

Nothing left,

Far away,

Dreamers fade...

(The Pentangle, Light Flight, 1969)

The End

This is the end,

Beautiful friend.

This is the end,

My only friend, the end.

Of our elaborate plans, the end.

Of everything that stands, the end.

No safety or surprise, the end.

I'll never look into your eyes... again.

(Jim Morrison, The end, 1967)

White Room

At the party

she was kindness

in the hard crowd

Consolation

for the old wound

now forgotten

Yellow tigers

crouched in jungles

in her dark eyes

She's just dressing

goodbye windows

tired starlings

(Cream, White Room, 1968)