Archived threads in /lit/ - Literature - 2735. page

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With your mercury mouth in the missionary times
And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes
Oh, who do they think could bury you ?
With your pockets well protected at last
And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass
And your flesh like silk, And you face like glass
Who among them do they think could carry you ?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait ?

With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace
And your basement clothes and your hollow face
Who among them can think he could outguess you ?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims
And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns
Who among them would try to impress you ?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait ?

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss
And you wouldn't know it would happen like this
But who among them really wants just to kiss you ?
With your childhood flames on your midnight rug
And your Spanish manners, and your mother's drugs
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs
Who among them do you think could resist you ?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait ?
Oh, the farmers and the businessmen they all did decide
To show you the dead angels that they used to hide
But why did they pick you to sympathize with their side ?
How could they ever mistake you ?
They wished you'd accepted the blame for the farm
But with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm
And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms
How could they ever, ever persuade you ?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait ?

With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row
And your magazine-husband who one day just had to go
And your gentleness now, which you just can't help but show
Who among them do you think would employ you ?
Now you stand with your thief, you're on his parole
With your holy medallion which your fingertips fold
And your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul
Who among them do you think could destroy you ?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I leave them by your gate
Oh, sad-eyed lady, should I wait ?

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In death, you face life with a child and a wife
Who sleep-walks through your dreams into walls.
You're a soldier of mercy, you're cold and you curse,
"He who cannot be trusted must fall."
Loneliness, tenderness, high society, notoriety.
You fight for the throne and you travel alone
Unknown as you slowly sink
And there's no time to think.
In the Federal City you been blown and shown pity,
In secret, for pieces of change.
The empress attracts you but oppression distracts you
And it makes you feel violent and strange.
Memory, ecstasy, tyranny, hypocrisy
Betrayed by a kiss on a cool night of bliss
In the valley of the missing link
And you have no time to think.
Judges will haunt you, the country priestess will want you
Her worst is better than best.
I've seen all these decoys through a set of deep turquoise eyes
And I feel so depressed.
China doll, alcohol, duality, mortality.
Mercury rules you and destiny fools you
Like the plague, with a dangerous wink
And there's no time to think.
Your conscience betrayed you when some tyrant waylaid you
Where the lion lies down with the lamb.
I'd have paid off the traitor and killed him much later
But that's just the way that I am.
Paradise, sacrifice, mortality, reality.
But the magician is quicker and his game
Is much thicker than blood and blacker than ink
And there's no time to think.
Anger and jealousy's all that he sells us,
He's content when you're under his thumb.
Madmen oppose him, but your kindness throws him
To survive it you play deaf and dumb.
Equality, liberty, humility, simplicity.
You glance through the mirror and there's eyes staring clear
At the back of your head as you drink
And there's no time to think.
Warlords of sorrow and queens of tomorrow
Will offer their heads for a prayer.
You can't find no salvation, you have no expectations
Anytime, anyplace, anywhere.
Mercury, gravity, nobility, humility.
You know you can't keep her and the water gets deeper
That is leading you onto the brink
But there's no time to think.
You've murdered your vanity, buried your sanity
For pleasure you must now resist.
Lovers obey you but they cannot sway you
They're not even sure you exist.
Socialism, hypnotism, patriotism, materialism.
Fools making laws for the breaking of jaws
And the sound of the keys as they clink
But there's no time to think.
The bridge that you travel on goes to the Babylon girl
With the rose in her hair.
Starlight in the East and you're finally released
You're stranded but with nothing to share.
Loyalty, unity, epitome, rigidity.
You turn around for one real last glimpse of Camille
'Neath the moon shinin' bloody and pink
And there's no time to think.
Bullets can harm you and death can disarm you
But no, you will not be deceived.
Stripped of all virtue as you crawl through the dirt,
You can give but you cannot receive.
No time to choose when the truth must die,
No time to lose or say goodbye,
No time to prepare for the victim that's there,
No time to suffer or blink
And no time to think.

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>
Of war and peace the truth just twists
Its curfew gull just glides
Upon four-legged forest clouds
The cowboy angel rides
With his candle lit into the sun
Though its glow is waxed in black
All except when 'neath the trees of Eden
The lamppost stands with folded arms
Its iron claws attached
To curbs 'neath holes where babies wail
Though it shadows metal badge
All and all can only fall
With a crashing but meaningless blow
No sound ever comes from the Gates of Eden
The savage soldier sticks his head in sand
And then complains
Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf
But still remains
Upon the beach where hound dogs bay
At ships with tattooed sails
Heading for the Gates of Eden

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"Desolation Row, the extreme stylization of the talking-blues, structured by Dylan sort of like Dante's Inferno: The overcrowded alley of desolation houses a tragicomic humanity that mirrors centuries of history, past and present, glorious and servile, real and imaginary, from Cain to Cinderella, from the Hunchback of Notre Dame to the Phantom of the Opera, from Einstein to Eliot, from Romeo to Casanova; apocryphal gospel, disquieting revelation of the true facade of human civilization, heretic bestiary of twisted myths, Desolation Row is the metaphysical kingdom where the inhabitants are forced to forever repeat their myth in an extremely degraded form (Einstein, once a famous fiddler is now a peddler). The social protest has culminated in a resentment toward the entire civilization, devoid of history. The structure of the rock poem moves forward dramatically and sardonically to replace the folk ballad, while words and music find a suggestive equilibrium. Musically, the piece employs the structure of an Indian mantra, which revives continually when it seems to have ended."

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>homosexual-looking

what did he mean by this?

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Ladies and gentlemen, your 2017 Nobel Prize in Literature winner

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OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

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>America does not win the Nobel since half of /lit/ wasn't even born
>they have Roth, Wolfe, Pynchon, McCarthy and Le Guin
>they give it to a terrible singer
Were they trolling or what?

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>Zimmerman

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>Time is a jet plane: it moves too fast

What did this poet mean by this?

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What's your favorite book by him?

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THE.WORST.

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I've just started reading seriously. The best literature I've read so far is nothing but shitty young adult and fantasy novels. I want to gradually make my way to the pinnacle of literature, reading some of the best books written around the world. I want to read everything, from fiction to philosophy to history. Poems, novels, essays, everything. What would be the ideal books to start my journey? And how do I proceed? Help me /lit/, because only you can.

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So... Is he any worth going through? Which are his best works?

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Anyone else ever do this?

i read book of the new sun while i was pretty baked the other day and everything was so vivid and thought-provoking. probably not the best idea if you're into speed reading or whatever but it made my mental image of the book so much more powerful.