LEONARD COHEN : Story of Isaac Listen to the Jaw harp- we call that “drmba” in Romanian!)

 Send “Story Of Isaac” to your Cell 
Story Of Isaac, by Leonard Cohen

The door it opened slowly, 
My father he came in, 
I was nine years old. 
And he stood so tall above me, 
His blue eyes they were shining 
And his voice was very cold. 
He said, “i’ve had a vision 
And you know I’m strong and holy, 
I must do what i’ve been told.” 
So he started up the mountain, 
I was running, he was walking, 
And his axe was made of gold. 
Well, the trees they got much smaller, 
The lake a lady’s mirror, 
We stopped to drink some wine. 
Then he threw the bottle over. 
Broke a minute later 
And he put his hand on mine. 
Thought I saw an eagle 
But it might have been a vulture, 
I never could decide. 
Then my father built an altar, 
He looked once behind his shoulder, 
He knew I would not hide. 

You who build these altars now 
To sacrifice these children, 
You must not do it anymore. 
A scheme is not a vision 
And you never have been tempted 
By a demon or a god. 
You who stand above them now, 
Your hatchets blunt and bloody, 
You were not there before, 
When I lay upon a mountain 
And my father’s hand was trembling 
With the beauty of the word. 

And if you call me brother now, 
Forgive me if I inquire, 
“Just according to whose plan?” 
When it all comes down to dust 
I will kill you if I must, 
I will help you if I can. 
When it all comes down to dust 
I will help you if I must, 
I will kill you if I can. 
And mercy on our uniform, 
Man of peace or man of war, 
The peacock spreads his fan…

 Send “Story Of Isaac” to your Cell 


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