My birthday was the 25th, and I so love hearing your misheard lyric sung. It's almost the end of the school year, and I can totally relate to those tired horses. I'm not getting any writing done either! This is my first year as a middle school teacher...I decided after 20 years to stop feeding the educational publishing monster and get into the classroom where I could do some actual good. Elementary school reading and writing was easy to teach, for me. Middle school English for immigrants, it's like standing in front of a firehose trying to get a drink without choking. And I love my kids. But I have to say, I'm pretty well ready to get some writing done.

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It was a tough life, to be sure. But it certainly built character. I wanted a life where love and respect and appreciation reigned. So I chose that. My childhood showed me everything I did not wish to be or did not want to perpetuate. So as fragile and shell- shocked as I was, I had something in me that kept me going, that made me pull through even in my darkest times. So I'm grateful that my spark didn't die, but ignited. As a result, I have a great empathy for others. I guess I'm a tree- and people hugger! And I so appreciate others for whom life is challenging. Of course, we all have challenges, but some so much more than others. Luck of the draw? Didn't mean to write a novella! And so glad we all have our love of Patti Smith in common. What a great community she has fostered! Thank you, Robin, for being such a strong and active presence.💗

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For over a thousand years Bob Dylan has caressed our hearts with his spirited songs.

Title: Ophelia

Poet: Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891)

Collection: Poems (1870-1871)


On the calm and black wave where the stars sleep

White Ophelia floats like a great lily,

Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils...

- In the distant woods we hear hallalis.

It has been more than a thousand years since sad Ophelia

Passes, a white phantom, on the long black river.

For more than a thousand years her sweet madness

Has whispered her romance in the evening breeze.

The wind kisses her breasts and spreads like a corolla

Her great sails lulled softly by the waters;

The quivering willows weep on his shoulder,

On his great dreamy brow bow the reeds.

The crumpled water lilies sigh around her;

She sometimes awakens, in a sleeping alder,

Some nest, from which escapes a little shiver of wings:

- A mysterious song falls from the golden stars.


O pale Ophelia! beautiful as snow!

Yes you died, child, by a swept away river!

- It's because the winds falling from the great mountains of Norway

had whispered to you of bitter freedom;

It is that a breath, twisting your long hair,

To your dreamy mind brought strange noises;

That your heart listened to the song of Nature

In the complaints of the tree and the sighs of the nights;

It's because the voice of the mad seas, an immense rattle,

Broke your child's bosom, too human and too sweet;

It's that one morning in April, a beautiful pale horseman,

A poor madman sat mute at your knees!

Sky ! Love ! Freedom ! What a dream, oh poor Folle!

You melted into him like snow on fire:

Your great visions strangled your speech

- And the terrible Infinite frightened your blue eye!


- And the Poet says that in the rays of the stars

You come to look, at night, for the flowers you picked;

And that he saw on the water, lying in her long veils,

The white Ophelia floating, like a great lily.

Arthur Rimbaud .

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Thanks for sharing, Patti. This photo is familiar. I thought I remembered that Bob asked you something about poetry that night and you supposedly said you can’t stand poetry. Or is that a myth that somebody spread? Or were you just being ironic. I first bought your poetry books at The Gotham Book Mart when we lived on Long Island. At any rate, I loved watching and hearing the two of you sing “Dark Ryes” at the Beacon when he invited you to come on back out on the road after you had not performed for some time.

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What a great and well established photo by Ken Regan.I didn't know you were talking about the poet Rimbaud. Nice story, HBD Bob

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How beautiful to hear this and to hear your little story. Bob has a special place in my and many people’s hearts with his lovely poetry/lyrics so Happy belated Birthday Bob and thank you Patti for your lovely rendition of this song, made me smile 🙏

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I Love This!

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Thanks, Patti. Love this photo. So great to see a photo and know exactly what you were doing...saying. Happy Birthday, Bob. 82 years young.

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Patti, you seem to be one of the most emotionally generous people. I don’t know you personally yet you seem so truthful. I’m thankful to have been able to live in a time while you & Bob are alive. Thank you both.

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I haven't had alone time to listen yet.

In many photographs I've noticed the way Bob gazes upon you with pure admiration.

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He and I share the same birthday. Fond memories of times past

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Yes.....may he live....and I know his essence will remain for centuries. Thanks, Patti, for the song, too.

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Hey Patti I found this Jim Dine piece of Rimbaud at Edgar Berebi on his e-bay store you might like check it out https://www.ebay.com/itm/325526106565

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May 25·edited May 25

Thanks Patti, for making me laugh on this difficult day... Your voice is comforting, and you really made me smile ♥️

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Happy Birthday, Mr. Bob Dylan* That is so cool that you remembered that you were talking about Rimbaud when this picture was snapped of you two as you carried a picture of Rimbaud in your pocket. “All the tired horses in the sun”. But not tired for long. The horses are about to gather energy and gallop away from the zapping sun into the beautiful moonlit evening. Keep on writing and inspiring us. You are the best*~~*

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