PUBLIC MARKS with tag died

I dreamed I was the president of these United States I dreamed I replaced ignorance, stupidity and hate I dreamed the perfect union and a perfect law, undenied And most of all I dreamed I forgot the day John Kennedy died I dreamed that I could do the job that others hadn't done I dreamed that I was uncorrupt and fair to everyone I dreamed I wasn't gross or base, a criminal on the take And most of all I dreamed I forgot the day John Kennedy died Oh, the day John Kennedy died Oh, the day John Kennedy died I remember where I was that day, I was upstate in a bar The team from the university was playing football on TV Then the screen went dead and the announcer said, "There's been a tragedy There's are unconfirmed reports the president's been shot and he may be dead or dying." Talking stopped, someone shouted, "What!?" I ran out to the street People were gathered everywhere saying, did you hear what they said on TV And then a guy in a Porsche with his radio hit his horn and told us the news He said, "The president's dead, he was shot twice in the head in Dallas, and they don't know by whom." I dreamed I was the president of these United States I dreamed I was young and smart and it was not a waste I dreamed that there was a point to life and to the human race I dreamed that I could somehow comprehend that someone shot him in the face Oh, the day John Kennedy died Oh, the day John Kennedy died Oh, the day John Kennedy died Oh, the day John Kennedy died

A Dog Has Died My dog has died. I buried him in the garden next to a rusted old machine. Some day I'll join him right there, but now he's gone with his shaggy coat, his bad manners and his cold nose, and I, the materialist, who never believed in any promised heaven in the sky for any human being, I believe in a heaven I'll never enter. Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom where my dog waits for my arrival waving his fan-like tail in friendship. Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth, of having lost a companion who was never servile. His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine withholding its authority, was the friendship of a star, aloof, with no more intimacy than was called for, with no exaggerations: he never climbed all over my clothes filling me full of his hair or his mange, he never rubbed up against my knee like other dogs obsessed with sex. No, my dog used to gaze at me, paying me the attention I need, the attention required to make a vain person like me understand that, being a dog, he was wasting time, but, with those eyes so much purer than mine, he'd keep on gazing at me with a look that reserved for me alone all his sweet and shaggy life, always near me, never troubling me, and asking nothing. Ai, how many times have I envied his tail as we walked together on the shores of the sea in the lonely winter of Isla Negra where the wintering birds filled the sky and my hairy dog was jumping about full of the voltage of the sea's movement: my wandering dog, sniffing away with his golden tail held high, face to face with the ocean's spray. Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit. There are no good-byes for my dog who has died, and we don't now and never did lie to each other. So now he's gone and I buried him, and that's all there is to it. Translated, from the Spanish, by Alfred Yankauer Pablo Neruda Read poems about / on: dog, believe, sex, heaven, sea, lonely, ocean, winter, sky, star, together, happy, hair, lost, alone

问题在于语词的泛滥，我们越来越擅于用它们掩盖事实。声音也有同样的用途，能够在混沌中触发温情。但我们都应该时常触发一些严苛、清晰、强烈、直接的东西，释放愤怒，直面生存之本真。噪音可以被看作进入事物背面的工具，它是一种治疗手段，令我们在面对生命中不那么美好的一面时不至于丧失信心。将它视为某种特殊能量的源头，它会让你看清世界，勇往直前。

The lead singer of Love, one of the best bands of the psychedelic era and creators of the classic Forever Changes album, died yesterday in Memphis of leukemia.

syd barrett, guitarist/songwriter of pink floyd, dies today.

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