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        <h1>Dwight E. Edwards</h1>
        <br />
        Dwight E. Edwards was born in Duncan’s Cove, Nova Scotia (1944). His mother was a Danish harpist 
        struggling to get by. Playing the high society venues her instrument called for was not easy, even 
        if she extended her artistic territory to New-Brunswick, Newfoundland and Maine. His father was an 
        out of work fisherman.
        <br /><br />
        Dwight specialized in Celtic lore and only wrote poetry on vacation. As he was walking on the beach 
        thinking about his long time partner Louis-Charles Desprez, author of an essay on salted lakes and 
        eroded islands, when Obsession popped up. 
        <br /><br />

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      <h1>Dwight E. Edwards</h1>
      <br />
      N&eacute; face &agrave; l'oc&eacute;an Atlantique, en Nouvelle &Eacute;cosse, sa m&egrave;re 
      &eacute;tait une harpiste danoise qui trimait dur, dans la mesure o&ugrave; il y avait assez 
      de r&eacute;unions mondaines pour qu&rsquo;elle puisse travailler, d&ucirc;t-elle &eacute;tendre 
      son rayon d&rsquo;activit&eacute; artistique au Nouveau-Brunswick, Terre-Neuve et le Maine. Son 
      p&egrave;re &eacute;tait un p&ecirc;cheur au ch&ocirc;mage : il avait &eacute;t&eacute; 
      traumatis&eacute; par la rencontre d&rsquo;une grande baleine bleue au large de l&rsquo;&Icirc;le 
      de Sable avec laquelle, &agrave; ce qu&rsquo;il racontait, il avait &eacute;chang&eacute; des 
      invectives. Mais il devait &ecirc;tre so&ucirc;l comme toujours. Il l&rsquo;&eacute;tait m&ecirc;me 
      &agrave; la maison. 
      <br /><br />
      Dwight s&rsquo;est sp&eacute;cialis&eacute; dans le folklore celtique; il n&rsquo;&eacute;crit de 
      po&egrave;mes qu&rsquo;en vacances. Il marchait sur la plage pensant &agrave; son ami Louis-Charles 
      Desprez auteur d&rsquo;une &Eacute;tude sur les Lacs Sal&eacute;s et les &Icirc;les 
      &Eacute;rod&eacute;es, quand le po&egrave;me Obsession sortit tout &laquo;&eacute;crit&raquo; 
      de son cerveau d&rsquo;explorateur infatigable.
      <br /><br />

      
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      <h1>Dwight E. Edwards</h1>
      <br />
      Naci&oacute; en la provincia oriental de Nova Scotia (1944). Su madre era arpista dan&eacute;s y 
      no pod&iacute;a encontrar mucho trabajo en esas partes, porque no hab&iacute;a suficientes clientes 
      de alta clase a quienes pod&iacute;a gustar su instrumento tan raro. Entonces ten&iacute;a que viajar 
      a las provincias vecinas de New-Brunswick y Newfoundland y en el estado de Maine para sobrevivir. 
      Su padre, un pescador sin trabajo, ha sido asustado por una ballena celeste que supuestamente le 
      habr&aacute; platicado a lo largo de la Isla de Arenas. Sin duda estaba borracho, como siempre lo 
      era, tambi&eacute;n que fui en casa.
      <br /><br />
      Dwight estudi&oacute; el folclore c&eacute;ltico y se especializ&oacute; en eso. Solo escribe 
      poemas cuando anda de vacaciones. Paseando en la playa pensando en su querido amigo Louis-Charles 
      Desprez, autor de un ensayo sobre los lagos salados y las islas desgajadas, cuando el poema 
      <em>Obsession</em> le sali&oacute; de la mente todo listo para estar puesto en m&uacute;sica de una vez.
      <br /><br />
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    <poem>
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        <h2>Obsession</h2>
        
        So many tales<br /> 
        Ought to be told <br />
        About my old obsession<br />
        But only one <br />
        Has reached so far<br />
        As to deserve an ending<br />
        <br />
        You put a face on every love song<br />
        &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I’ve been blindly singing all along<br />
        <br />
        So many songs <br />
        Depending on <br />
        Your possible existence<br />
        Have given me <br />
        The strength to be<br /> 
        Your walking stick forever<br />
        <br />
        You put a face on every love song<br />
        &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I’ve been blindly singing all along<br />
        <br />
        I know a song that has your face<br />
        So come on sign it with me<br />
        Loud and clear<br />
        <br />
        Over the top <br />
        An angel waits<br />
        To make of us one only <br />
        And join the rest<br />
        Of all the best <br />
        In perfect bliss, unending.<br />
        <br />
        You put a face on every love song<br />
        &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I’ve been blindly singing all along<br />
        <br />
        <br />
        
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