Leonard Cohen Memorial Grows Outside Chelsea Hotel

CHELSEA, NY — It's four in the morning, early November. New York is cold, but on the stoop of the Chelsea Hotel at 222 West 23rd St., where only the brave are still living, a dozen tiny candles burn through the night like the heart of a legend. A hundred floors above them, you can almost hear him coughing, all night long.

A cardboard sign with ragged edges. "Take a candle," it says. "Light it for Leonard and all he shared with us."

A dozen weathered-yellow roses, wrapped in a paper cone. Scribbled lyrics, like autographs on a cast. "Everybody knows that the war is over. Everybody knows that the good guys lost."

A scrap of binder paper, drenched in wine. Five words: "Rest well, Lord of Song."

Above, an offering: A bottle of Napa Valley Cabernet. Below, a half-drunk glass of wine.

Purple orchids, barely showing, tucked between a pole of scaffolding and an old, peeling HOTEL CHELSEA plaque.

A folded paper plate, scrawled with a lyric: "For the ones like us who are oppressed by the figures of beauty."

A pack of cigarettes. A head of lettuce. Some weed.

A love note on crinkled binder paper:

"You have been one of the great loves of my life. I love you, I'll miss you. Safe travels old friend and thank you for everything. Genevieve from Montreal."

And, printed from a typewriter, every word to "Chelsea Hotel No. 2," a perfect song about a shared night between Leonard Cohen, Chelsea Hotel resident, and Janis Joplin, a girl he found in the elevator at the height of the hotel's glamor days.

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
You were talking so brave and so sweet,
Giving me head on the unmade bed,
While the limousines wait in the street.
Those were the reasons and that was New York,
We were running for the money and the flesh.
And that was called love for the workers in song
Probably still is for those of them left.

Ah but you got away, didn't you babe,
You just turned your back on the crowd,
You got away, I never once heard you say,
I need you, I don't need you,
I need you, I don't need you
And all of that jiving around.

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
You were famous, your heart was a legend.
You told me again you preferred handsome men
But for me you would make an exception.
And clenching your fist for the ones like us
Who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
You fixed yourself, you said, "Well never mind,
We are ugly but we have the music."

And then you got away, didn't you babe
I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best,
I can't keep track of each fallen robin.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
That's all, I don't even think of you that often.

Rest in peace, babe.