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The Illustrated In Held 'Twas in I • 1971

'In the Darkness of the Night ...' • Carole M Hassan • 1971

 

Read about the origins of this illustration | The text of the illustration (variants highlighted)

In the darkness of the night, only occasionally relieved by glimpses of Nirvana as seen through other people's windows, wallowing in a morass of self-despair made only more painful by the knowledge that all I am is in my own making ...

When everything around me, even the kitchen ceiling, has collapsed and crumbled without warning. And I am left, standing alive and well, looking up and wondering why and wherefore.

At a time like this, which exists maybe only for me, it is nonetheless real, if I can communicate, and in the telling and [the] baring of my soul anything is gained, even though the words which I use are pretentious and make me cringe with embarrassment, let me remind you of the pilgrim who asked for an audience with the Dalai Lama.

He was told he must first spend five years in contemplation. After the five years, he was ushered into the Dalai Lama's presence, who said, 'Well, my son, what do you wish to know?' So the pilgrim said, 'I wish to know the meaning of life, father.'

And the Dalai Lama smiled and said, 'Well my son, life is like a beanstalk, isn't it?'

Right, the illustration as it appears on the photocopy sent to Procol Harum in 1971

 

 

Read about the origins of this illustration | The text of the illustration (variants highlighted)

Though close by that which some despise
which some call fake, and others lies
And somewhat small
for one so tall
a doubting Thomas who would be?
It's written plain for all to see
for one who I am with no more
it's hard at times, it's awful wrong

They say that Jesus healed the sick and helped the poor
and those unsure
believed his eyes
- a strange disguise
So write it down, it might be right
nothing's better left unsaid
only sometimes, still no doubt
it's hard to say, it all works out

Right, the illustration as it appears on the photocopy sent to Procol Harum in 1971

 

 

 

 

Read about the origins of this illustration | The text of the illustration (variants highlighted)

 

'Twas tea-time at the circus: Jerry the King was there
Through hoops he skipped, high wires he tripped, and all the while the glare
of the naking, aching spotlights beat down upon his cloak
and though the crowd clapped furiously they could not see the joke

'Twas tea-time at the circus, though some might not agree
as jugglers danced, and horses pranced and clowns clowned endlessly
The trunk to tear the elephants quite silent, never spoke
and though the crowd clapped desperately they did not see the joke


 

Right, the illustration as it appears on the photocopy sent to Procol Harum in 1971

 

 

 

 

Read about the origins of this illustration | The text of the illustration (variants highlighted)

In the autumn of my madness when my hair is turning grey
for the milk is  finally curdled and I've nothing more  to say
When all my thoughts are spoken (save my last departing words)
bring all my friends unto me and I'll strangle them with words

In the autumn of my madness which in coming won't be long
for the nights are now much darker and the daylight's not so strong
and the things which I believed in are no longer quite enough
for the going  is much harder and the going's getting rough

Right, the illustration as it appears on the photocopy sent to Procol Harum in 1971

 

 

 

 

Read about the origins of this illustration | The text of the illustration (variants highlighted)

 

I know if I'd been wiser this would never have occurred
but I wallowed in my blindness so it's plain that I deserve
for the sin of self-indulgence when the truth was read quite clear
I must spend my life among'st the dead who spend their lives in fear
of a death that they're not sure of, of a life they can't control
It's [all] so simple really if you just look to your soul

Some say that I'm a wise man, some think that I'm a fool
It doesn't matter either way: I'll be a wise man's tool
[For] the lesson lies in learning and by teaching I'll be taught
for there's nothing hidden anywhere, it's all there to be sought
And so if you know anything look closely at the time
While others [who] remain untrue and don't commit that crime

 

Right, the illustration as it appears on the photocopy sent to Procol Harum in 1971

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