I consider myself a poet first and a musician second. I live

Bob Dylan, wanderer of words and prophet of song, once declared: “I consider myself a poet first and a musician second. I live like a poet and I'll die like a poet.” In these words lies the essence of his being: that beneath the chords and melodies, beneath the stage and the applause, it is the word—the living flame of poetry—that defines him. Music was his vessel, but poetry was his soul. To live as a poet is not merely to write verses, but to embrace life itself as a poem, filled with mystery, beauty, longing, and truth.

The origin of this thought rests in Dylan’s rise as a voice of a generation. In the turbulent years of the 1960s, when streets rang with protest and the youth demanded vision, Dylan’s songs spoke with the depth of scripture and the bite of prophecy. “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “The Times They Are A-Changin’”—these were not simply songs, but poems clothed in melody, lines that cut to the bone of justice, freedom, and hope. He saw himself not as an entertainer, but as a vessel of poetry, singing what the soul of the people yearned to speak.

The ancients too revered the poet above the musician. Homer, though his epics were sung, is remembered not as a performer but as a poet. Orpheus, the mythical bard, charmed the world with his lyre, yet it was his words that moved gods and men. To live like a poet, as Dylan said, is to live in pursuit of truth beyond comfort, to walk the edge between vision and madness, to bear the burden of seeing the world not as it appears, but as it truly is.

Consider the story of Federico García Lorca, the Spanish poet who lived and died as Dylan describes. Lorca’s poems were drenched in music, in the rhythms of flamenco, in the cries of his land. He lived as a poet, fearless in voice, and died as one, executed in the Spanish Civil War for the power of his words. His life embodies the truth Dylan claimed: that poetry is not only art, but destiny, something that clings to a soul until the very end.

Dylan’s words also carry defiance. To say “I live like a poet and I’ll die like a poet” is to reject the shallow masks of celebrity and comfort. It is to choose vision over convenience, truth over applause, the burden of creation over the ease of silence. The poet does not live safely. He lives with eyes open to the beauty and brutality of the world, and he dies knowing his words may outlast him, bearing his soul into eternity.

The lesson for us is clear: to live as a poet is to live awake. It is to see what others pass by, to feel what others numb, to speak what others fear. Whether or not we write verse, we can live poetically by embracing wonder, by naming truth, by walking with courage in a world that often prefers sleep. To live and die as a poet is not a fate for Dylan alone—it is a calling for all who wish to live fully.

Practical action flows from this wisdom. Take time each day to notice beauty: a tree against the sky, a stranger’s kindness, even sorrow turned luminous. Speak your truth, even if your voice trembles. Write, sing, create—not for applause, but for the fire of expression itself. And above all, live as though your days are lines in a great poem, each one shaping the legacy you leave behind.

So let Dylan’s words resound: “I consider myself a poet first and a musician second. I live like a poet and I’ll die like a poet.” This is not only his testament, but a challenge to us all: to let poetry, in whatever form it takes, guide our lives; to live with eyes open, voices strong, and souls aflame with truth. For in the end, music may fade, but the poet’s words endure, carrying the essence of life itself.