• Bob Dylan ,contre l'injustice .


    Bob Dylan - Hurricane - 1975 Live par movisfree

    Un des grands noms de la "protest songs" des années 70 avec cette très belle chanson .

    Lyrics (paroles de cette chanson)

    Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
    Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall.
    She sees the bartender in a pool of blood,
    Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
    Here comes the story of the Hurricane,
    The man the authorities came to blame
    For somethin' that he never done.
    Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
    The champion of the world.

    Three bodies lyin' there does Patty see
    And another man named Bello, movin' around mysteriously.
    "I didn't do it," he says, and he throws up his hands
    "I was only robbin' the register, I hope you understand.
    I saw them leavin'," he says, and he stops
    "One of us had better call up the cops."
    And so Patty calls the cops
    And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin'
    In the hot New Jersey night.

    Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
    Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin' around.
    Number one contender for the middleweight crown
    Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
    When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
    Just like the time before and the time before that.
    In Paterson that's just the way things go.
    If you're black you might as well not show up on the street
    'Less you wanna draw the heat.

    Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops.
    Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin' around
    He said, "I saw two men runnin' out, they looked like middleweights
    They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
    And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head.
    Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one's not dead"
    So they took him to the infirmary
    And though this man could hardly see
    They told him that he could identify the guilty men.

    Four in the mornin' and they haul Rubin in,
    Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs.
    The wounded man looks up through his one dyin' eye
    Says, "Wha'd you bring him in here for? He ain't the guy!"
    Yes, here's the story of the Hurricane,
    The man the authorities came to blame
    For somethin' that he never done.
    Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
    The champion of the world.

    Four months later, the ghettos are in flame,
    Rubin's in South America, fightin' for his name
    While Arthur Dexter Bradley's still in the robbery game
    And the cops are puttin' the screws to him, lookin' for somebody to blame. 
    "Remember that murder that happened in a bar?"
    "Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"
    "You think you'd like to play ball with the law?"
    "Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin' that night?"
    "Don't forget that you are white."

    Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I'm really not sure."
    Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break
    We got you for the motel job and we're talkin' to your friend Bello
    Now you don't wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
    You'll be doin' society a favor.
    That sonofabitch is brave and gettin' braver.
    We want to put his ass in stir
    We want to pin this triple murder on him
    He ain't no Gentleman Jim."

    Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
    But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
    It's my work, he'd say, and I do it for pay
    And when it's over I'd just as soon go on my way
    Up to some paradise
    Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
    And ride a horse along a trail.
    But then they took him to the jailhouse
    Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.

    All of Rubin's cards were marked in advance
    The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
    The judge made Rubin's witnesses drunkards from the slums
    To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
    And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger.
    No one doubted that he pulled the trigger. 
    And though they could not produce the gun,
    The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
    And the all-white jury agreed.

    Rubin Carter was falsely tried.
    The crime was murder "one," guess who testified?
    Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
    And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
    How can the life of such a man
    Be in the palm of some fool's hand?
    To see him obviously framed
    Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
    Where justice is a game.

    Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
    Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
    While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
    An innocent man in a living hell.
    That's the story of the Hurricane,
    But it won't be over till they clear his name
    And give him back the time he's done.
    Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
    The champion of the world.

    Paroles traduites (texte incomplet):

    Pour une chose qu'il n'a jamais faite
    Mis entre quatre murs, alors qu'il aurait pu être 
    Le champion du monde 

    Quatre mois plus tard, les ghettos sont en feu
    Rubin est en Amérique du Sud combattant pour son son titre
    Tandis qu'Arthur Dexter Bradley joue toujours au voleur
    Et les flics lui mettent la pression, ils cherchent un coupable
    "Tu te souviens de ce meurtre dans un bar ?"
    "Tu te souviens que t'as dit que t'avais vu la voiture des fuyards ?"
    "Tu crois qu'tu pourrais coopérer avec la justice?"
    "Tu crois que ça pourrait être ce lutteur que tu as vu courir cette nuit-là ?"
    "N'oublie pas que tu es blanc"

    Arthur Dexter Bradley dit : "Je suis pas vraiment sûr"
    Les flics : "Un pauvre type comme toi aurait besoin d'un répit"
    On t'a coincé pour le coup du motel et on cause à ton pote Bello
    Si tu veux pas retourner en taule, sois un peu sympa.
    Tu rendras service à la société
    Ce fils de pute est de plus en plus brave
    On veut lui coincer le cul
    On veut lui mettre ce triple meurtre sur le dos
    Il se prend pour Gentleman Jim

    Rubin pouvait mettre un homme hors-jeu d'un seul coup
    Mais il n'avait jamais aimé vraiment en parler
    C'est mon travail, disait-il, je le fais pour l'argent
    Et quand ce sera fini je partirai aussitôt
    Vers quelque paradis
    Où coulent les rivières à truite et l'air est bon
    Et j'irai à cheval par les sentiers
    Mais ils l'emmenèrent en prison
    Où ils essaient de réduire un homme en souris

    Toutes ses cartes étaient jouées d'avance
    Le procès n'était qu'un cirque, il n'avait pas une chance
    Le juge pour soutenir Rubin avait tiré des saoulards des taudis
    Pour les blancs qui regardaient ce n'était qu'un révolutionnaire minable
    Et pour les noirs ce n'était qu'un nègre cinglé
    Personne ne doutait qu'il avait pressé la détente
    Et bien qu'ils ne pouvaient pas présenter l'arme
    Le procureur dit que c'était lui l'auteur du crime
    Et le jury entièrement blanc fut d'accord

    Rubin Carter a eu un jugement truqué.
    C'était un meurtre de la plus haute gravité, devinez qui témoigna ?
    Bello et Bradley et ils mentirent effrontément
    Et les journaux suivirent tous le mouvement
    Comment la vie d'un tel homme
    Peut-elle être entre les mains de ces quelques crétins ?
    De le voir victime d'un tel coup monté
    Je ne peux m'empêcher de me sentir honteux de vivre dans un pays
    Où la justice est un jeu

    Alors que tous les criminels dans leurs costumes et leurs cravates
    Sont libres de boire des martinis en regardant le soleil se lever
    Rubin est assis comme Bouddha dans une cellule de trois mètres
    Un innocent dans un enfer vivant
    C'est l'histoire de Hurricane
    Mais elle ne sera pas finie tant qu'ils n'auront pas lavé son nom
    Et rendu le temps qu'il a fait
    Mis entre quatre murs, alors qu'il aurait pu être
    Le champion du monde

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