- Didn't watch it; absolutely no interest in seeing Biden; wake me in 4 years.
- Nah, just don't wake up.
21 ян.' 2021, Twitter (link)
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Функционалната философия!... Lzzy (21 ян.' 2021, Twitter, link)
предложи следното (аранжировката е моя):
"When day comes we ask ourselves:
Where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade;
We've braved
The belly of the beast,
We've learned that quiet isn't always peace,
And the norms and notions of what just is
Isn't always justice.
And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it,
Somehow we do it,
Somehow we've weathered and witnessed
A nation that isn't
Broken but simply unfinished.
We the successors of a country and a time
Where a skinny black girl descended from slaves
And raised
By a single mother
Can dream of becoming president
Only to find
Herself reciting for one.
And yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine,
But that doesn't mean
We are striving to form
A union that is perfect:
We are striving to forge
A union with purpose
To compose
A country committed to all cultures,
Colors, characters and conditions of man.
And so
We lift our gazes not to what stands
Between us,
But what stands
Before us;
We close the divide
Because we know,
To put our future first,
We must first
Put our differences aside.
We lay down our arms
So we can reach out our arms
To one another;
We seek harm to none
And harmony for all;
Let the globe,
If nothing else,
Say this is true:
That even as we grieved, we grew;
That even as we hurt, we hoped;
That even as we tired, we tried.
That we'll forever be tied
Together,
Victorious!
Not because we will never
Again
Know
Defeat,
But because we will never
Again
Sow
Division;
Scripture tells us to envision
That everyone shall sit
Under their own vine and fig
Tree.
And no one shall make them afraid:
If we're to live up to our own time,
Then victory won't lie
In the blade,
But in all the bridges we've made,
That is the promise to glade;
The hill we climb
If only we dare.
It's because being American
Is more than a pride we inherit,
It's the past we step into
And how we repair it;
We've seen a force that would
Shatter our nation rather than share it,
Would destroy our country if it meant delaying
Democracy;
And this effort very nearly succeeded,
But while democracy
Can be periodically delayed,
It can never be permanently defeated.
In this truth, in this faith we trust,
For while we have our eyes
On the future,
History has its eyes on us.
This is the era of just redemption,
We feared it at, in its inception,
We did not feel prepared
To be the heirs
Of such a terrifying hour;
But within it we found the power
To author
A new chapter,
To offer
Hope and laughter
To ourselves.
So while once we asked:
How could we possibly prevail
Over catastrophe?
Now we assert:
How could catastrophe possibly prevail
Over us?
We will not march back to what was,
But move to what shall be,
A country that is bruised but whole,
Benevolent but bold,
Fierce and free.
We will not be turned around,
Or interrupted by intimidation,
Because we know our inaction and inertia
Will be the inheritance of the next generation.
Our blunders
Become their burdens,
But one thing is certain:
If we merge mercy with might,
And might with right,
Then love becomes our legacy,
And change - our children's birthright.
So let us leave behind a country
Better than the one we were left:
With every breath
From my bronze-pounded chest
We will raise
This wounded world into a wondrous one,
We will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the West,
We will rise from the wind-swept North-East,
Where our forefathers first realized revolution,
We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states,
We will rise from the sun-baked South,
We will rebuild, reconcile and recover
Every known nook of our nation,
And every corner called our country,
Our people, diverse and beautiful,
Will emerge battered and beautiful.
When day comes we step out of the shade,
Aflame and unafraid,
The new dawn blooms as we free it,
For there is always light
If only we're brave enough to see it,
If only we're brave enough to be it."
Amanda Gorman , "The Hill We Climb":
