Music Top Arajem

How many times must a man look up… . . Before they can see the sky?

The answer is blowin’ in the wind…

Written by: Bob Dylan

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, ’n’ how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, ’n’ how many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, ’n’ how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, ’n’ how many times can a man turn his head
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

How many times must a man lookup
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, ’n’ how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, ’n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind

Mikal Gilmore is one of the rare journalists to talk to Bob Dylan extensively in recent years, including a 2001 interview in which Dylan opened up about everything from regaining his creative drive to how the country should move on from the attacks of September 11th, and another in 2012 in which Dylan offered puzzling new details about his 1966 motorcycle crash and lashed out at his critics. On Saturday, Dylan will become the recipient of the Nobel Prize in Literature. We reached out to some of his most influential fans, including Al Gore and Stephen King, to discuss Dylan’s literary merits. Here, Gilmore traces how Dylan came to write not just songs or poetry – but history.

When Bob Dylan became world-renowned in 1965 – with the eventful summer hit “Like a Rolling Stone” – he seemed mystifying, uncanny, unrivaled. It wasn’t simply his appearance – his mazy hair, more far-out than the Beatles’; his gaunt visage, more dissolute than the Rolling Stones’ Brian Jones. It wasn’t his snarling inflection, which nettled some people’s nerves, nor that he’d written protest anthems that ratified youthful upheaval. What set Bob Dylan apart from everybody was something more outlandish: It was how he wielded language. “Like a Rolling Stone” was surreal – in the sense of infusing the known with the unknown, certainly in ways never heard before in a popular song. Phantasmagoric images flew by as retribution and entered our parlance. Some heard it as arbitrary wording, nonsense. Others called it neologism, a new direction.

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