William Southold, The Southold Report
Just reporting that I had a great time, and the audience seemed to enjoy, my “mystery poem” reading at the Old Curmudgeons’ Poetry Slam at the Kennedy Center on Saturday night. I had such a good time that I decided to call up my undercover source for the poem and ask if he would share another. If you remember, these poems came from an unexpected stash found in an attic in Quebec.
I was able to twist his arm (with the promise of a guided tour of DC of all the hot spots for listening to poets read their stuff) and he gave me another of Leonard Cohen’s poems. This one is a little different, it has two voices, and I could imagine if it was sung as a song it would use both male and female voices.
I am excited about what he sent me, and my plan is to read it next Saturday at The Crotchety Old Voices Poetry Slam, also at the Lincoln Center.
I want to thank and commend all of you who showed up at the Slam on Saturday, and came up to me afterward and shared a knowing wink. I appreciate that you didn’t reveal the author of the poem, and as you saw, nobody guessed correctly.
Also, I have worked hard to maintain my nighttime identity with the other poetry slammers as Rap Artist Cold Will S., and I appreciate all of you who kept my (our) secret.
Let’s see if we can keep this going for another week. If again no-one identifies the author, I will provide the big reveal.
Hope to see you all again at this poetry slam. I will have some work to do this week, brushing up on my French accent.
(The poem I plan to read is below.)
Central News Service, proudly bringing you the fakest news anywhere, featuring our very own Pulitzer Prize winning Fake Newsman, William Southold
(CNS Disclaimer: Mr. Southold has in no way won the Pulitzer Prize.)
(CNS Disclaimer #2: Mr. Southold, despite warnings, continues to act as a Fake Poetry Curator. We don’t mind his nighttime excursions, but It now has brought our Legal Department into full insurrection.)
(Image from Tunefind)
Maurice Chevalier on the Champs-Élysées
You have asked me to be what I can not be,
I should have told you this right from the start.
Don’t ask me to change, I don’t have the range,
And really, I don’t have the heart.
My Love, oh my Dear, I hear you sing,
Of the sun, and the moon, and the stars.
What may I bring, of everything,
Or are you just picking at scars?
You want me to prove that my love flows
Endless rivers, down to the sea?
How can I wear, my blood-soaked hair
To hide my wounds even from me?
Maurice Chevalier on the Champs-Élysées!
My land, my sea, my sky,
Maurice Chevalier on the Champs-Élysées!
Oh please, just once ‘fore I die.
Maurice Chevalier, on the Champs-Élysées
How can I be such a man?
Not Maurice Chevalier, on the Champs-Élysées,
Surely this can’t be your plan.
I need Maurice Chevalier on the Champs-Élysées,
For his gentle hand, tender touch.
Maurice Chevalier, oh it’s Maurice I must say,
Maurice, who I want to remember so much.
Why do you tease me, and not release me?
I should have recognized this from the start.
You try to bind me, my hands tied behind me,
With a chain surrounding my heart.
Maurice Chevalier on the Champs-Élysées!
To stroll me at noon, and under the moon,
To dance me all day, and cause me to sway
To lean me back, and make me swoon.
So now you would choose to abuse and misuse
The powers you have over me?
And cause us once more, our treasures to lose
The ones you have buried at sea?
Maurice Chevalier, sur les Champs-Élysées
Ma terre, ma mer, mon ciel,
Maurice Chevalier, sur les Champs-Élysées
Oh s'il vous plaît, juste une fois avant de mourir.
I don’t understand, I am the same man
You so often just cast away.
Then bring me back, always your plan,
You know that’s where I want to stay.
You would have me dance to your tune,
Play you trumpets and horns,
And waltz you all around the room?
Or should I just put on your crown of thorns?
You won’t be Chevalier on the Champs-Élysées?
Dance me from Concorde to de Gaulle?
You’ve decided not to play, my Maurice Chevalier,
Though you say your love bursts like a waterfall.
You shall not change me, and rearrange me,
I’ve known this right from the start.
No matter your pleads, I don’t have the needs,
And I can’t let you murder my heart.
Je ne suis pas Maurice Chevalier, sur les Champs-Élysées,
Je ne peux pas être cet homme.
Pas Maurice Chevalier, sur les Champs-Élysées,
Je ne peux pas me laisser danser à vos caprices
(Together)
Maurice Chevalier, sur les Champs-Élysées.
Nous dansons ensemble à midi, et sous la lune
Maurice Chevalier, sur les Champs-Élysées,
Pourtant, nous dansons ensemble, autour de la salle.
(Translation of duet:)
Maurice Chevalier, on the Champs-Élysées.
We dance together at noon and under the moon.
Maurice Chevalier, on the Champs-Élysées,
Still, we dance together, around the room.