It’s coming through a hole in the air,
from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
It’s coming from the feel
that this ain’t exactly real,
or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
from the sirens night and day,
from the fires of the homeless,
from the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming through a crack in the wall;
on a visionary flood of alcohol;
from the staggering account
of the Sermon on the Mount
which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
It’s coming from the silence
on the dock of the bay,
from the brave, the bold, the battered
heart of Chevrolet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming from the sorrow in the street,
the holy places where the races meet;
from the homicidal bitchin’
that goes down in every kitchen
to determine who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
where the women kneel to pray
for the grace of God in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State!
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Through the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.
It’s coming to America first,
the cradle of the best and of the worst.
It’s here they got the range
and the machinery for change
and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
It’s here the family’s broken
and it’s here the lonely say
that the heart has got to open
in a fundamental way:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
It’s coming from the women and the men.
O baby, we’ll be making love again.
We’ll be going down so deep
the river’s going to weep,
and the mountain’s going to shout Amen!
It’s coming like the tidal flood
beneath the lunar sway,
imperial, mysterious,
in amorous array:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Sail on, sail on …
I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.
And I’m neither left or right
I’m just staying home tonight,
getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
that Time cannot decay,
I’m junk but I’m still holding up
this little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.
Democracy is Coming To The USA – poemul recitat de Leonard Cohen
Vine, printr-o spartura din vazduh,
Din noptile de-atunci din Piata Tienanmen,
Vine din senzatia ca nu-i real,
Sau e real, dar nu-i de tot aici.
Din razboaiele impotriva dezordinii,
Din sirenele din noapte si din zi,
Din focurile celor fara adapost,
Si din cenusa celor veseli:
Democratia vine in Statele Unite.
Vine printr-o spartura data-n zid,
Pe o betie care naste profetii,
Din uimitoarea Predica de pe Munte,
Pe care nu pretind c-o inteleg.
Apare din tacerea
de la chei si de pe tarm,
de la cei viteji, cei indrazneti si incercati,
din inima unui Chevrolet:
Democratia vine in Statele Unite.
Vine din tristetea de pe strazi,
Din locurile sfinte unde neamurile se aduna,
De la barfa criminala
Care-n fiece bucatarie toaca vorbe,
Pana se-alege servitorul si servitul.
Din puturile de dezamagire
unde femeile se roaga in genunchi
pentru mila lui Dumnezeu in desertul de aici
sau de aiurea:
Democratia vine in Statele Unite.
Vasleste, vasleste, neincetat,
prea mandra mea Corabie de Stat,
spre Tarmul Stramtorarii
peste Stramtoarea Lacomiei,
Prin furtuna urii,
vasleste, vasleste mai departe.
Democratia vine in America mai intai,
Locul de bastina pentru cei mai buni si cei mai rai,
Aici au si tehnologia
schimbarii si masinaria
si tot aici au setea cea mai mare pentru duh.
Aici familia-i rupta
Si aici cei singuri spun
ca inima trebuie sa se deschida
catre lucruri inca nemaiauzite:
Democratia vine in Statele Unite.
Vine de la femei si de la barbati,
Iubito, o sa ne iubim din nou!
Atat de mult ca raul o sa planga
Si muntele va striga: Amin!
Vine ca o viitura,
pe sub leganarea lunii,
imperiala, misterioasa,
intr-o parada a iubirii:
Democratia vine in Statele Unite.
Navigheaza, navigheaza…
Sunt sentimental, daca intelegi ce vreau sa zic,
Iubesc tara, dar nu suport sa vad,
Nu-s nici de dreapta nici de stanga,
Stau pur si simplu acasa in seara asta,
Ma pierd in micul ecran fara speranta.
Dar sunt mai indaratnic decat o punga din plastic
pe care Timpul nu o poate recicla
Sunt un gunoi, dar inca mai persist
cu acest buchetel salbatic:
Democratia vine in Statele Unite.