Luyện nghe bài hát Leaving Beirut

So we Beirut Willa and I
He headed East to and the rest of it
I set out
I walked the five or six miles to the last of the street
And hunkered in the curb side
Holding out my
In no great at the ramshackle procession of home bound traffic
Success!
An ancient 'dolmus '
The ubiquitous, Arab, shared taxi up
I turned out my and shrugged at the driver
" J'ai pas de "
" Venez! " A soft from the back seat
The driver lent across and pushed open the back door
I stooped to inside at the two men there
One besuited, bespectacled, moustached, irritated, distant,
The other, the one who had spoken,
Frail, fifty five-ish, bald, sallow, in a short pale blue cotton shirt
With one biro in the pocket
A clerk maybe, slightly in the seat
"Venez!" He said again, and
"Mais pas de l'argent"
"Oui, Oui, d'accord, Venez!"

Are these the people that we bomb
Are we so sure mean us harm
Is this our pleasure, punishment or
Is this a that we really want to climb
The road is hard, and long
Put down that two by
This man never turn you from his door
Oh George! Oh George!
Texas education must have fucked you up when you were very small

He with a small arthritic motion of his hand
Fingers together like a child goodbye
The driver put my old guitar in the boot with my rucksack
And off we
" Vous etes Francais, "
" Non, "
" Ah! "
" Est-ce que vous parlais Anglais, "
"Non, je regrette"
And so on
In small talk strangers, his French alien but correct
Mine halting but eager to
A lift, all, is a lift
Late left us brusquely
And some later the dolmus slowed at a crossroads lit by a single lightbulb
Swung through a U-turn and stopped in a of dust
I opened the and got out
But my benefactor no move to follow
The dumped my guitar and rucksack at my feet
And waving away my thanks returned to the
Only to reappear with a pair of crutches
Which he leaned against the rear of the Mercedes.
He reached the car and lifted my companion out
Only one leg, the second trouser leg neatly pinned beneath a hip
" Monsieur, si vous voulez, ca sera un honneur pour
Si vous venez avec moi a la maison pour manger avec ma "

When I was 17 my mother, her heart, fulfilled my summer dream
She handed me the to the car
We motored down to Paris, fuelled Dexedrine and booze
Got bust in by the cops
And in Naples by the wops
But everyone was kind to us, we were the dudes
Our had helped them win the war
When we all knew what we fighting for
But now an Englishman abroad is a US stooge
The bulldog is a poodle snapping round the last refuge

"Ma femme", God! Monopod but not queer
The taxi off leaving us in the dim light of the swinging bulb
No in sight
the hell
"Merci monsieur"
"Bon, Venez!"
His creased in pleasure, he set off in front of me
Swinging his leg between the crutches with agonising
Up the dusty road into the darkness
After half an hour we'd gone half a mile
When on the I made out the low profile of a building
He out in Arabic to announce our arrival
And after scuffling inside a lamp was lit
And the angle of light in the wide crack under the door
Signalled the of someone within
The door creaked open and there, holding a looking oil lamp
Stood a squat, moustached woman, smiling up at us
She stood to let us in and as she turned
I saw the reason for her
She carried on her back a shocking
I nodded and smiled back at her in greeting, fighting for
The gentleness between the man and his monstrous wife
Almost too for me

Is too much for us
Should gentleness be filed along empathy
We feel for someone else's
Every a smart bomb does its sums and gets it wrong
else's child dies and equities in defence rise
America, America, please hear us when we
You got hip-hop, be-bop, and bustle
You got Finch
You got Russell
You got of speech
You got great beaches, wildernesses and
Don't let the might, the Christian right, it all up
For you and the rest of the

talked excitedly
She to take his crutches in routine of care
He chiding,
We a guest
She by her faux pas
my things and laid them gently in the corner
"Du the?"
We sat on meagre cushions in one of the single room
The floor was earth packed hard and by one wall a raised
six foot by four covered by a simple sheet, the bed
The hunchback busied herself with small copper pots an open hearth
And brought us tea, hot and
And so to
Flat, bread, + thin
Cooked in an iron skillet over the hearth
Then folded and into the soft insides of female sea urchins
My hostess did not eat, I ate her
She would hear of else, I was their guest
And then she behind a curtain
And left the men to sit drinking thimbles of Arak
Carefully poured a small bottle with a faded label
Soon she reappeared,
Carrying in her arms pride and joy, their child.
I'd never seen a like that
So severe that as one eye out the other disappeared behind its nose

Not in my name, Tony, you war leader you
is still terror, whosoever gets to frame the rules
History's not by the vanquished or the damned
Now we are Genghis Khan, Borghia, Son of Sam
In 1961 they this child into their home
I wonder what became of
In the cauldron was Lebanon
If I could find them now, could I make
How the story end?

And so to bed, me that is, not
Of course they slept on the behind a curtain
Whilst I lay awake all on their earthen bed
Then came the dawn and their quiet stirrings
Careful not to wake the
I yawned in great
And took the proffered bowl of water up and washed
And sipped my coffee in its cup
And then with much "merci-ing" and and shaking of hands
We left the to her chores
And we men made our way to the crossroads
The slowness of our progress accentuated by the brilliant morning light
The dolmus duly
My host gave me one and leaning on the other
Shook my hand and
"Merci, monsieur," I
" De "
" And merci a femme, elle est tres gentille "
Giving up his crutch
He allowed himself to be folded into the back again
"Bon voyage, monsieur," he
And half bowed as the taxi headed south towards the
I turned North, my guitar over my
And the first hot gust of
Quickly dried the salt from my young cheeks.