It is foar de tredde kear dat ik oer har dream begjin, oer har 2018-dream. Klik hjir en hjir.

Ik seach har fan ’t simmer noch op it keatsfjild yn Bitgum. Ik wol der net om hinne: ik gûlde, ik stjerde.

Ik sitearje Bob Seger – hy hat it oer it opnimmen fan it nûmer ‘Like a rock’: ‘My fondest memory of this recording is of David Cole and I listening to Rick Vito play the slide guitar solo late one night at rumbo Studios in LA. It was the single most spectular overdub I’d ever heard.’ Klik hjir om it te hearren.

Hjir folget de tekst fan it nûmer:

Stood there boldly
Sweatin’ in the sun
Felt like a million
Felt like number one
The height of summer
I’d never felt that strong
Like a rock

I was eighteen
Didn’t have a care
Working for peanuts
Not a dime to spare
But I was lean and
Solid everywhere
Like a rock

My hands were steady
My eyes were clear and bright
My walk had purpose
My steps were quick and light
And I held firmly
To what I felt was right
Like a rock

Like a rock, I was strong as I could be
Like a rock, nothin’ ever got to me
Like a rock, I was something to see
Like a rock

And I stood arrow straight
Unencumbered by the weight
Of all these hustlers and their schemes
I stood proud, I stood tall
High above it all
I still believed in my dreams

Twenty years now
Where’d they go?
Twenty years
I don’t know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they’ve gone

And sometimes late at night
When I’m bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin’ a ghostly white
And I recall
I Recall

Like a rock. standin’ arrow straight
Like a rock, chargin’ from the gate
Like a rock, carryin’ the weight
Like a rock

Lihe a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock

Ik folgje it drama fan har dream. Se hat ea boarte op ’e strjitstiennen fan Grou. It âlde Grou, it Fryske Grou, it Grou fan de bruorren Halbertsma. Ik sjoch it foar my en ik gûl en stjer.

O, Jannewytske de Vries, wêrom glipt it dy troch de fingers? Wêrom sil alles dy altyd troch de fingers glippe? Om’tst by dyn dreamen net de goeie minsken wist te finen, do bist der in master yn om nei de ferkearden te harkjen – datsto dysels wer útfine moast, datsto te witten komme moast wa’tst eins bist ensfh. – om’tst sels net goed om dy hinne harkest en sjochst, om’tst te min fan de wrâld om dy hinne ôf witst, om’t dyn dream net woartele is yn ’e werklikheid, om’tst hoe’tst it ha woest net koe, en no is is te let.

Ik ha my yn in eardere kollum oanbean om te helpen. Do bist net by my kommen. Hast myn kollum net lêzen of guon dy’t dat wol dien ha, ha dy der net op my wiisd of dy my út ’e holle praat. Dêrfoar al hie ik nei de provinsje maild dat it miskien goed wie dat ik my oer de dream bûgde. Ja wier, dat ha ik dien. Mar ik bin net oproppen – myn namme is faaks net iens oan dy ta kommen – en de ferkearde is beneamd.

Jannewytske, it is dochs tryst wat der allegear oer dy dream fan dy hinne kommen is. De Ljouwerter ried hat it by einsluten as se it oer dyn dream ha oer in iisko. En do giest mei Crone te fioeltsjeplantsjen! En do mienst flink wêze te moatten troch in pamflet yn ûntfangst te nimmen dêr’t yn úthâlden wurdt dat de stikken, dy’t om sa te sizzen de ‘teoretyske’ ûnderbouwing fan dyn dream binne, net frij of faaks ferjûn binne fan brune, fan fassistyske trekken. Jannewytske, ik sjoch dy stean yn dyn read mantelpakje of jurkje, wat it mar is en gûl en stjer.

Ik núnderje op dizze moaie maatiidsdei in oar ferske fan Bob Seger. Nee, ik núnderje al net mear, ik balt it út.

Against the wind

Seems like yesterday
But it was long ago
Janey was lovely she was the queen of my nights
There in darkness with the radio playin’ low
And the secrets that we shared, mountains that we moved
Caught like a wildfire out of control
Till there was nothin’ left to burn and nothin’ left to prove

And I remember what she said to me
How she swore that it never would end
I remember how she held me oh so tight
Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then

Against the wind
We were runnin’ against the wind
We were young and strong we were runnin’ against the wind

And the years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
Found myself further and further from my home and I
Guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was livin’ to run and runnin to live
Never worried about payin’ or even how much I owe

Movin’ eight miles a minute and for months at a time
Breakin’ all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searchin’
Searchin’ for shelter again and again

Against the wind
Little somethin’ against the wind
I found myself seekin shelter against the wind

Well those drifting days are past me now
I’ve got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out

Against the wind
I’m still runnin’ against the wind
I’m older now but still runnin’ against the wind

Well I’m older now but still runnin’ against the wind
Against the wind
Against the wind
Still runnin’
Against the wind
Against the wind
Against the wind…

Jannewytske do stiest as in rots, ik leau it fêst. Mar watst om dy hinne hast binne moaipraters, ja-knikkers, slikkers. Lju dy’t it allegear gjin moer skele kin. Skop se fan dy ôf en kom nei my ta.

Jannewytske kom yn myn earms om út te gûlen as in rots, as in fytser yn ’e wyn op. Foar de dream dy’tst hiest is it te let. Sels ik kin dy by dizze dream net mear helpe, net mear rêde. Fan it begjin ôf oan hiest my yn ’e earm nimme moatten.

Begrypst wat it is dat ik der no al foar de tredde kear oer begûn bin. Foar de tredde kear ha ik kraaid. Sjoch it net as ferrie. It is leafde.

Kom, litte do en ik no einlings tegearre wat betinke. Of nee, do meist it betinke en ik help dy. It brûst yn my. Ik wol dyn brûsplak fan leafde wêze.