我不是Bob Dylan的頭號粉絲，跟多數人一樣意外再意外 ~ 也認為詞是為音樂上的創作，"類文學"的表達方式之一，某些層面上與文學無法劃上等號相較，但仍恭喜BobDylan得到今年的諾貝爾"文學獎"。
一生中可以有那麼多的詞曲創作真的不易；文化背景與語言的差異，雖不見得理解他每首作品背後的特別意義，卻有其意境與韻味~還蠻喜歡Moonlight跟EveryGrain of Sand。
不羈的靈魂，就留存在美好影像裡…
♦對現在的一些"潮流"音樂很是無感，太多無病呻吟，自以為的style...難有共鳴 ~ ｢涵養｣之外也欠缺力、美與時代的浪漫 ~ 期待優質、可以流傳的音樂詩篇。
<Moonlight>
Seasons they are turning and my sad heart isyearning
I hear again the songbird weep below his tone
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone
The dusky light the day is losing
Orchards, poppies, black eyed Susan
The earth and sky that melts with flesh and bone
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone
The air is thick and heavy all along the levee
Where the geese into the countryside have flown
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone
Well, I'm preaching peace and harmony
The blessings of tranquility
Yet I know when the time is right to strike
I take you 'cross the river, dear
You no need to linger here
I know the kinds of things you like
The clouds are turning crimson, the leaves fall from the limbs and
The branches cast their shadows over stone
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone
The boulevards of cypress trees, the masquerade of birds and bees
The petals blinking white, the wind has blown
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone
The trailing moss in my stico, the purple blossom soft as snow
My tears keep flowing to the sea
Doctor, lawyer, indian chief, it takes a thief to catch a thief
For whom does the bell toll for, love?
It tolls for you and me
Old pulses running through my palm, the sharp hills are rising from
Yellow fields with twisted oaks that grow
Won't you meet me out in the moonlight alone
<Every Grain of Sand>
In the time of my confession, in the hour ofmy deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed
There's a dyin' voice within me reaching out somewhere,
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.
Don't have the inclination to look back on any mistake,
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break.
In the fury of the moment I can see the Master's hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.
Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer.
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.
I gaze into the doorway of temptation's angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name.
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.
I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer's dream, in the chill of a wintry light,
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
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