This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004).
This blog is one of the transitions for the new year. I've started it This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera cellphone (which I bought in 2004).
This blog is one This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004 sounds (already), old, scratched, a little battered, like my camera This is a weird time of year. Here in Berkeley it's a gorgeous day, sunny, though chilly. The magnolias are already blooming. It's not spring yet, not even winter. The looming New Year makes a guy think about transitions, the passage of time, new stuff—the usual. The numeral 2005 sounds new—shiny and pristine, just out of the box, wheareas 2004
8:53 PM Thursday, November 9, 2006
[The Songs of War: Part 2]
Some time ago I threatened to write a series about war songs, and I hereby post part 2 of that series. Lili Marleen, written as a poem by Hans Leip in 1915, and set to music by prolific German songwriter Norbert Schutlze in 1938, concerned a girl waiting for her soldier boyfriend underneath a lantern: "Wenn sich die späten Nebel drehen, werd' ich bei der Laterne stehen, wie einst Lili Marleen, Wie einst Lili Marleen." (If the late-night mists swirl, I'll be standing by the lantern, as I once did, Lili Marlene.")
An actress and cabaret singer from Bremenhaven recorded the song in 1939 under her stage name Lale (pronounced "Lolla") Andersen, and the song, admired by the Afrika-Corps' field marshal Rommel, became a hit on the Radio Belgrade station of the German armed forces, from where it was picked up by the Allies and translated into many languages. Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi propaganda minister, did not like the song, however, and banned Lale from public performances for nine months. Among other things, Andersen had a long collaboration with the Jewish composer Rolf Liebermann. The song's popularity led to its later reputation as the "greatest war song of all time." Lale Anderson died in Vienna in 1972 and is buried on an island off the German coast where a sculpture commemeorates Lili's eternal Laterne.
Following the Allied intervention in Fascist Italy in 1943, troops of the British Eighth Army rewrote the lyrics as the "D-Day Dodgers" because of their uninvolvement in the Normandy invasion: "We landed at Salerno, a holiday with pay; Jerry brought the band down to cheer us on our way. We all sang the songs and the beer was free; we kissed all the girls in Napoli; for we are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy."
More links: LiliMarleen Lili Marlene WWII war song LaleAndersen Germany Rommel Goebbels,
More Images: Lantern
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