"Simon Lee, the Old Huntsman" and "Changes" by 2Pac
(Unglamorized reality)
"Simon Lee: The Old Huntsman"
In the sweet shire of Cardigan, Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall, An old Man dwells, a little man,— 'Tis said he once was tall. For five-and-thirty years he lived A running huntsman merry; And still the centre of his cheek Is red as a ripe cherry. No man like him the horn could sound, And hill and valley rang with glee When Echo bandied, round and round The halloo of Simon Lee. In those proud days, he little cared For husbandry or tillage; To blither tasks did Simon rouse The sleepers of the village. He all the country could outrun, Could leave both man and horse behind; And often, ere the chase was done, He reeled, and was stone-blind. And still there's something in the world At which his heart rejoices; For when the chiming hounds are out, He dearly loves their voices! But, oh the heavy change!—bereft Of health, strength, friends, and kindred, see! Old Simon to the world is left In liveried poverty. His Master's dead—and no one now Dwells in the Hall of Ivor; Men, dogs, and horses, all are dead; He is the sole survivor. And he is lean and he is sick; His body, dwindled and awry, Rests upon ankles swoln and thick; His legs are thin and dry. One prop he has, and only one, His wife, an aged woman, Lives with him, near the waterfall, Upon the village Common. Beside their moss-grown hut of clay, Not twenty paces from the door, A scrap of land they have, but they Are poorest of the poor. This scrap of land he from the heath Enclosed when he was stronger; But what to them avails the land Which he can till no longer? Oft, working by her Husband's side, Ruth does what Simon cannot do; For she, with scanty cause for pride, Is stouter of the two. And, though you with your utmost skill From labour could not wean them, 'Tis little, very little—all That they can do between them. Few months of life has he in store As he to you will tell, For still, the more he works, the more Do his weak ankles swell. My gentle Reader, I perceive, How patiently you've waited, And now I fear that you expect Some tale will be related. O Reader! had you in your mind Such stores as silent thought can bring, O gentle Reader! you would find A tale in every thing. What more I have to say is short, And you must kindly take it: It is no tale; but, should you think, Perhaps a tale you'll make it. One summer-day I chanced to see This old Man doing all he could To unearth the root of an old tree, A stump of rotten wood. The mattock tottered in his hand; So vain was his endeavour, That at the root of the old tree He might have worked for ever. "You're overtasked, good Simon Lee, Give me your tool," to him I said; And at the word right gladly he Received my proffered aid. I struck, and with a single blow The tangled root I severed, At which the poor old Man so long And vainly had endeavoured. The tears into his eyes were brought, And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. —I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning. |
"Changes"
[1] Come on come on I see no changes. Wake up in the morning and I ask myself, "Is life worth living? Should I blast myself?" I'm tired of bein' poor and even worse I'm black. My stomach hurts, so I'm lookin' for a purse to snatch. Cops give a damn about a negro? Pull the trigger, kill a nigga, he's a hero. Give the crack to the kids who the hell cares? One less hungry mouth on the welfare. First ship 'em dope and let 'em deal to brothers. Give 'em guns, step back, and watch 'em kill each other. "It's time to fight back", that's what Huey said. 2 shots in the dark now Huey's dead. I got love for my brother, but we can never go nowhere unless we share with each other. We gotta start makin' changes. Learn to see me as a brother 'stead of 2 distant strangers. And that's how it's supposed to be. How can the Devil take a brother if he's close to me? I'd love to go back to when we played as kids but things changed, and that's the way it is [Bridge w/ changing ad libs] Come on come on That's just the way it is Things'll never be the same That's just the way it is aww yeah [Repeat] I see no changes. All I see is racist faces. Misplaced hate makes disgrace to races we under. I wonder what it takes to make this one better place... let's erase the wasted. Take the evil out the people, they'll be acting right. 'Cause both black and white are smokin' crack tonight. And only time we chill is when we kill each other. It takes skill to be real, time to heal each other. And although it seems heaven sent, we ain't ready to see a black President, uhh. It ain't a secret don't conceal the fact... the penitentiary's packed, and it's filled with blacks. But some things will never change. Try to show another way, but they stayin' in the dope game. Now tell me what's a mother to do? Bein' real don't appeal to the brother in you. You gotta operate the easy way. "I made a G today" But you made it in a sleazy way. Sellin' crack to the kids. "I gotta get paid," Well hey, well that's the way it is. [Bridge] [Talking:] We gotta make a change... It's time for us as a people to start makin' some changes. Let's change the way we eat, let's change the way we live and let's change the way we treat each other. You see the old way wasn't working so it's on us to do what we gotta do, to survive. And still I see no changes. Can't a brother get a little peace? There's war on the streets and the war in the Middle East. Instead of war on poverty, they got a war on drugs so the police can bother me. And I ain't never did a crime I ain't have to do. But now I'm back with the facts givin' 'em back to you. Don't let 'em jack you up, back you up, crack you up and pimp smack you up. You gotta learn to hold ya own. They get jealous when they see ya with ya mobile phone. But tell the cops they can't touch this. I don't trust this, when they try to rush I bust this. That's the sound of my tool. You say it ain't cool, but mama didn't raise no fool. And as long as I stay black, I gotta stay strapped and I never get to lay back. 'Cause I always got to worry 'bout the payback. Some buck that I roughed up way back... comin' back after all these years. Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat. That's the way it is. uhh [Bridge 'til fade:] Some things will never change |
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The Parallels:
Both "Simon Lee" and "Changes" by 2Pac present a difficult reality, untouched by happy endings. Wordsworth notes the difficulty of the world by describing the man as "the poorest of the poor" and "He all the country could outrun." Wordsworth understands the reader expects a happy resolution to the poem, and he responds to that expectation with "I fear that you expect some tale will be related." The poem is not a tale, it is the embodiment of a difficult reality experienced by the rural poor. 2Pac desribes another difficult reality. In his version, the struggles of the urban black community are highlighted. Issues of racism, packed penitentaries, drugs, and wars are catalogued. Just as wordsworth says that his poem is not a tale, but a reality, 2Pac states "That's just the way it is" when desribing the urban black community's reality.
Both "Simon Lee" and "Changes" by 2Pac present a difficult reality, untouched by happy endings. Wordsworth notes the difficulty of the world by describing the man as "the poorest of the poor" and "He all the country could outrun." Wordsworth understands the reader expects a happy resolution to the poem, and he responds to that expectation with "I fear that you expect some tale will be related." The poem is not a tale, it is the embodiment of a difficult reality experienced by the rural poor. 2Pac desribes another difficult reality. In his version, the struggles of the urban black community are highlighted. Issues of racism, packed penitentaries, drugs, and wars are catalogued. Just as wordsworth says that his poem is not a tale, but a reality, 2Pac states "That's just the way it is" when desribing the urban black community's reality.