kilka wersów Cohena (rogacza)

 

If this looks like a poem

I might as well warn you at the beginning

that it's not meant to be one.

I don't want to turn anything into poetry.

I know all about her part in it

but I'm not concerned with that right now.

This is between you and me.

Personally I don't give a damn who led who on:

in fact I wonder if I give a damn at all.

But a man's got to say something.

Anyhow you fed her 5 MacKewan Ales,

took her to your room, put the right records on,

and in an hour or two it was done.

I know all about passion and honour

but unfortunately this had really nothing to do with either:

oh there was passion I'm only too sure

and even a little honour

but the important thing was to cuckold Leonard Cohen

 

The Cuckold’s Song, from the Spice-Box of Earth by Leonard Cohen

 

Takiego Cohena lubię chyba najbardziej. Żadnego tam barda czy legendę serc. Skrzywdzonego, bezradnego, oszukanego. Zaufanie, jakie budował z kimś, rozbite w szybkim czasie.

Krygującego się jeszcze, jakoby:

 ”I repeat: the important thing was to cuckold Leonard Cohen.

I like that line because it's got my name in it.”

Ale wiedzącego, aż nadto, co się stało. I że nie da się nic zamienić w poezję.