Chet Atkins plays The Beatles

Chet Atkins was a wonderful American guitar performer, whose virtuoso guitar style established a new standard of popular instrumental music.

Today I stumbled on his recording of a medley of 4 Beatles songs, and I couldn't resist the temptation of putting, as I hold the Beatles among the finest authors of popular Western music of the 20th century, and Chet Atkins - among the finest of performers. Besides, the second of the songs has struck a chord with me today.



The songs are -

1. If I Fell in Love (A Hard Day's Night, track 3)


2. For No One (Revolver, track 10)


3. Something (Abbey Road, track 2)


4. Lady Madonna (released contemporarily as a single, then on Past Masters Vol. 2)

Also worth noting - Tina Turner's cameo at the end the video, and a bit of dialogue around it.

A Night, A Street, A Lamp, A Drugstore / A. Blok, [tr. to Hebrew]

נערך, 23 במאי

לילה, רחוב, אור, בית-מרקחת,
חרוט-פנס לא מהימן.
תחיה עוד דור — יהיה עוד כך,
אין יציאה. תהיה רק כאן.

תמות — אז שוב תתחיל עוד פעם,
ומחדש הכל יסוב:
הלילה, כפור מרשרש במים,
בית-התרופות, פנס, רחוב.

אלכסנדר בלוק, 10 באוקטובר 1912.

תרגום של עבדכם הנאמן.

Ночь, улица, фонарь, аптека,
Бессмысленный и тусклый свет.
Живи еще хоть четверть века —
Все будет так. Исхода нет.

Умрешь — начнешь опять сначала,
И повторится все, как встарь:
Ночь, ледяная рябь канала,
Аптека, улица, фонарь.

10 октября 1912г.

A translation to English, by Dina Belayeva.

An analysis, in Russian, may be found here.

A very amusing parody, in Russian - "Ночь. Улица. Фонарь. Аптека. / Бар. Клуб. Девицы. Дискотека...".

Image above - the poem set on a wall in Leiden, of all places.

Why should I care? / Shalom Hanoch

Shalom Hanoch is a major Israeli artist. He rose to prominence in the early 1970s, as part of Israel's first generation of rock artists. This movement swept away the collectivism, the major feature of prior Israeli culture. As much a part of this movement as any other artist, Hanoch's lyrics ("Why should I care?", "Love of my Youth") have, however, became defining narratives of a whole generation.

תן לצעוק, תן ללמוד,
תן לצחוק ותן לשמוע.
תן לחיות ותן לטעות
תן לעצמך לסלוח.
פשוט לאהוב.

Let me learn, and let me shout;
let me fail and let me live;
let me laugh and stick about;
let yourself forgive.
Just to love, and no more.
(Tr. by yours humbly)

I wonder whom Hanoch is addressing. I recall a similar passage out of my beloved Leah Goldberg -

למדני ה' ברך והפלל
על סוד עלה קמל על נגה פרי בשל
על החרות הזאת: לראות, לחוש לנשום
לדעת, לייחל, להיכשל

This video presents the canonic recording of this song, by Hanoch and Arik Einstein (as well as "moral support" by their friend Uri Zohar).

Having returned to homeland / Joseph Brodsky

Воротишься на родину. Ну что ж.
Гляди вокруг, кому еще ты нужен,
кому теперь в друзья ты попадешь?
Воротишься, купи себе на ужин

какого-нибудь сладкого вина,
смотри в окно и думай понемногу:
во всем твоя одна, твоя вина,
и хорошо. Спасибо. Слава Богу.

Как хорошо, что некого винить,
как хорошо, что ты никем не связан,
как хорошо, что до смерти любить
тебя никто на свете не обязан.

Как хорошо, что никогда во тьму
ничья рука тебя не провожала,
как хорошо на свете одному
идти пешком с шумящего вокзала.

Как хорошо, на родину спеша,
поймать себя в словах неоткровенных
и вдруг понять, как медленно душа
заботится о новых переменах.

Иосиф Бродский, 1961г.

And There Was Between Us Just The Shining / Leah Goldberg, performance by Tsila Dagan

I earlier wrote of (and translated to English) a wonderful sonnet by Leah Goldberg, And There was Between Us Just The Shining.

Two performances of it by the late Tsila Dagan have since been uploaded to YouTube, and I'd like to post them. The first performance is the original 1970's version; the second one is a concert performance by her, which is plainer, but still notable.

Farewell to Love / Michael Drayton

I was not previously familiar with Michael Drayton's work. Wikipedia writes that he was an Elizabethan poet - a contemporary of Shakespeare - and that he enjoyed rather more acclaim at his time than he does now.

But I adore sonnets, and so as I was reading Rivka Yaron's stylistic guide, I stumbled upon this translation, which I liked, for it came in due time. Therefore, I bring that to you -

Sonnet LXI

Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part --
Nay, I have done: you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free.

Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows;
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.

Now, at the last gasp of Love’s latest breath,
When, his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes, --

Now, if thou wouldst, when all have given him over,
From death to life thou mightst him yet recover.

סונט 61

הן אין מנוס: נשקיני ושלום
לא, כי נשלם, שוב אין לך חלק בי
וטוב לבי, כן, טוב לבי היום,
שכך אני נחלץ, קב ונקי,

נפרד לעד, מתיר את השבועות
וביום שניפגש שוב אימתי,
אל ייראה על מצחותינו אות
ששמץ אהבה מכבר עוד חי

עתה, לקול רחרוח אהבה גוועת
שבמותה תשוקה מוטלת דום
שמרגלותיה אמונה כורעת,
ותום לבב עיניו יעצום

שכבר אמרו כולם נואש: עתה
עוד יש לאל ידך להחיותה

תרגום: אשר רייך
Translation: Asher Reich

P.S. This Sonnet LXI forms an interesting counterpoint to another author's Sonnet LXI. I hope I may write of that some day.

The Parable of the Old Man and the Young / Wilfred Owen

I recently visited Jerusalem, and among other things, enjoyed a great view from the Armon ha-Natsiv Promenade. The guide spoke of the (near) sacrifice of Isaac, which is said to have occured at the very spot on the Moriah mountain on which later stood the Jewish Temple, then the Muslims built their Dome of the Rock.

Wilfred Owen, of whose Anthem for Doomed Youth I had already written, thought about Isaac's sacrifice too, but used it to speak of his own time and doom.

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps
and builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him, thy son.
Behold! Caught in a thicket by its horns,
A Ram. Offer the Ram of Pride instead.

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
(Owen)

Was Owen's war - World War I just about personal pride? I don't think so. But this poem rings especially true when one thinks of the sins of pride of each of us individually:

Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus,
that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.
Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades,
and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures,
for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day
on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles,
first fell out with one another.
(Homer, Iliad, I)