On Reading Dylan’s Writings
Now that it’s dust and ashes
now that it’s human skin
Here’s to you Bob Dylan
a poem for the laurels you win.
Sincerest form of flattery
is imitation they say
I’ve broke my long line down
to write a song your way.
Those ‘chains of flashing images’
that came to you at night
were the highest farm boys’ day dreams
that glimpse the Angels’ light.
And tho the dross of wisdom’s come
and left you alone on earth
remember when the Angels call
your soul for a new birth.
It wasn’t dope that gave you truth
no money that you stole
–was God himself that entered in
shining your heavenly soul.
Allen Ginsberg 27 July 1973, London