Worklist Addition: Dresden/Nagasaki, "Let It Rain"

[Bandwraith at aol.com]

Let it rain, let it rain,
Let your love rain down on me.
Let it rain, let it rain,
Let it rain, rain, rain.

The rain is falling through the mist
Of sorrow that surrounded me.
The sun could never thaw away
The the bliss that lays around me.

Let it rain, let it rain,
Let your love rain down on me.
Let it rain, let it rain,
Let it rain, rain, rain.

Her life was like a desert flower
Burning in the sun.
Until I found the way to love,
It's harder said than done.

Let it rain, let it rain,
Let your love rain down on me.
Let it rain, let it rain,
Let it rain, rain, rain.

Now I know the secret;
There is nothing that I lack.
If I give my love to you,
You'll surely give it back.

Let it rain, let it rain,
Let your love rain down on me.
Let it rain, let it rain,
Let it rain, rain, rain.

http://www.exploratorium.edu/nagasaki/journey/journey1.html


respectfully
-------------------------------------------------------

"The training course lasted three weeks, ending on a Saturday, 
a very rainy one.  At seven that last night, our whole group was 
scheduled to entrain for London, where, as rumor had it, we were 
to be assigned to infantry and airborne divisions mustered for the 
D-Day landings. By three in the afternoon, I’d packed all my 
belongings into my barracks bag, including a canvas gas-mask 
container full of books I’d brought over from the Other Side.  (The 
gas mask itself I’d slipped through a porthole of the Mauretania 
some weeks earlier, fully aware that if the enemy ever did use gas 
I’d never get the damn thing on in time.)  I remember standing at an 
end window of our Quonset hut for a very long time, looking out at the 
slanting, dreary rain, my trigger finger itching imperceptibly, if at all.  
I could hear behind my back the uncomradely scratching of many 
fountain pens on many sheets of V-mail paper.  Abruptly, with nothing 
special in mind, I came away from the window and put on my raincoat, 
cashmere muffler, galoshes, woolen gloves, and overseas cap (the last 
of which, I’m still told, I wore at an angle all my own—slightly down over 
both ears).  Then, after synchronizing my wristwatch with the clock in 
the latrine,  I walked down the long, wet cobblestone hill into town.  I 
ignored the flashes of lightning all around me.  They either had your 
number on them or they didn’t."

From: _For Esme- With Love and Squalor_, J.D. Salinger

http://www.geocities.com/su_englit/salinger_esme.html
    


    


    

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