Het zal je vast niet ontgaan zijn dat vorig jaar de 200ste geboortedag is gevierd van Charles Darwin (1809-1882).

Voor het Shrewsbury Folk Festival, in zijn geboortestad, werd een bijzonder muzikaal project georganiseerd, het Darwin Song Project, waaraan 8 singer/songwriters meededen. 3 uit Schotland, 3 Engelse en 2 uit de VS.

Na een retraite in maart was er 6 dagen later een concert, dat in augustus herhaald werd tijdens het festival. Het mooiste lied vind ik Clock Of The World, geschreven door Krista Detor, die zichzelf begeleid op de piano, en prachtige solo’s & harmonieën van Emily Smith, Karine Polwart en Rachael McShane.

Clock Of The World
I am pondering the citizenry of the place I live.
Privilege and advantage, but a willingness to give.
These droves and droves of immigrants came teaming cross the plain,
the cavalry behind them, and we are what remains.

And if you’ve got a dollar, someone will give you something for it.
But a little morale get you something nicer, I’m sure of it.
Maybe a watch made in China from the trunk of someone’s car
Or a life-size cardboard cut out of a famous movie star.

But somewhere bells are ringing
Somewhere someone’s marrying
Or a casket someone’s carrying
A crowd somewhere is gathering
Somewhere a bell is marking
What is passing and sublime
Like the clock of the world
Keeping perfect holy time.

Ravenous and beautiful, it’s all beyond me, I admit.
I can buy it if I want it, but I don’t need so much of it.
And the price will need repaying, don’t know how it will be met.
But bells go on ringing, grace may find us yet.

Or will the angels stumble, weary, tired of tasks they’ve been assigned?
Bells ringing resoundly, while they hold the firing lines?
With great imagination, we call these creatures from the air,
and as easily convince ourselves that they were never there.

But somewhere bells are ringing
Somewhere someone’s marrying
Or a casket someone’s carrying
A crowd somewhere is gathering
Somewhere a bell is marking
What is passing and sublime
Like the clock of the world
Keeping perfect holy time.

I am listening for a church bell and I know somewhere it rings,
reading Darwin by the window, in the order of natural things.
There is grandeur in his viewpoints, these evolutionary strains,
still nothing’s quiet on the Eastern front, so the cavalry remains.
Always the cavalry remains.

And if you’ve got a dollar, someone will give you something for it.
But a little morale get you something nicer, I’m sure of it.
Here’s a painting of a woman, maybe all the way from Rome,
look how sad and pretty, she’s so far away from home.

But somewhere bells are ringing
Somewhere someone’s marrying
Or a casket someone’s carrying
A crowd somewhere is gathering
Somewhere a bell is marking
What is passing and sublime
Like the clock of the world
Keeping perfect holy time.