The High And Mighty.
Politicians, high priests of the holy church
of greed,
Yours are the crimes from which the many
bleed.
See, vice and corruption make their
stand,
with brutal tyranny, walk hand
in hand;
your arrogant minds, lost in ambition's
cloud,
oblivious to the suffering of the humble
crowd.
When poverty's knife makes our people
bleed,
your cancerous power is all you ever
feed,
holding high some ego-inflating avaricious
plan
that divides, soon pits man against
man.
Now, anguish and war mark your mad
career,
covering our world in the brume of
fear,
then shedding youth's blood by cruel
deceit,
with spurious pomp, lay the guilt at
another's feet.
As we fall heir to a plunder
land,
you tyrants walk in manner
grand,
what must we do to make you
yield,
to see our children play in a bloodless
field?
Smash and crush your dark nefarious
power,
allowing love and peace to freely
flower.
Verb
ReplyDeleteI’m going to wrinkle this word,
I’m going to twist it,
yes,
it is much too flat
it is as if a great dog or great river
had passed its tongue or water over it
during many years.
I want that in the word
the roughness is seen
the iron salt
The de-fanged strength
of the land,
the blood
of those who have spoken and those who have not spoken.
I want to see the thirst
Inside the syllables
I want to touch the fire
in the sound:
I want to feel the darkness
of the cry. I want
words as rough
as virgin rocks.
Pablo Neruda
Translated by T.M. Lauth
Like you
ReplyDeleteLike you I
love love, life, the sweet smell
of things, the sky-blue
landscape of January days.
And my blood boils up
and I laugh through eyes
that have known the buds of tears.
I believe the world is beautiful
and that poetry, like bread, is for everyone.
And that my veins don’t end in me
but in the unanimous blood
of those who struggle for life,
love,
little things,
landscape and bread,
the poetry of everyone.
Roque Dalton
Translated by Jack Hirschman
The certainty
ReplyDeleteAfter four hours of torture, the Apache and the other two cops threw a bucket of water at the prisoner to wake him up and said: "The Colonel has ordered us to tell you you're to be given a chance to save your skin. If you guess which of us has
a glass eye, you'll be spared torture." After passing his gaze over the faces of his executioners, the prisoner pointed to one of them: "His. His right eye is glass."
And the astonished cops said, "You're saved! But how did you guess? All your buddies missed because the eye is American, that is, perfect." "Very simple," said the prisoner, feeling he was going to faint again, "it was the only eye that looked at me without hatred."
Roque Dalton
The lord of dollars
ReplyDeleteMother, unto gold I yield me,
He and I are ardent lovers;
Pure affection now discovers
How his sunny rays shall shield me!
For a trifle more or less
All his power will confess,
Over kings and priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
In the Indies did they nurse him,
While the world stood round admiring;
And in Spain was his expiring;
And in Genoa did they hearse him;
And the ugliest at his side
Shines with all of beauty's pride;
Over kings and priests awl scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
He's a gallant, he's a winner,
Black or white be his complexion;
He is brave without correction
As a Moor or Christian sinner.
He makes cross and medal bright,
And he smashes laws of right,—
Over kings and priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
Noble are his proud ancestors
For his blood-veins are patrician;
Royalties make the position
Of his Orient investors;
So they find themselves preferred
To the duke or country herd,—
Over kings and priests and scholars,
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars!
Of his standing who can question
When there yields unto his rank, a
Hight-Castillian Doña Blanca,
If you follow the suggestion?—
He that crowns the lowest stool,
And to hero turns the fool,—
Over kings and priests and scholars,
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
On his shields are noble bearings;
His emblazonments unfurling
Show his arms of royal sterling
All his high pretensions airing;
And the credit of his miner
Stands behind the proud refiner,
Over kings and priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
Contracts, bonds, and bills to render,
Like his counsels most excelling,
Are esteemed within the dwelling
Of the banker and the lender.
So is prudence overthrown,
And the judge complaisant grown,—
Over kings and priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
Such indeed his sovereign standing
(With some discount in the order),
Spite the tax, the cash-recorder
Still his value fixed is branding.
He keeps rank significant
To the prince or finn in want,—
Over kings and Priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
Never meets he dames ungracious
To his smiles or his attention,
How they glow but at the mention
Of his promises capacious!
And how bare-faced they become
To the coin beneath his thumb
Over kings and Priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
Mightier in peaceful season
(And in this his wisdom showeth)
Are his standards, than when bloweth
War his haughty blasts and breeze on;
In all foreign lands at home,
Equal e'en in pauper's loam,—
Over kings and priests and scholars
Rules the mighty Lord of Dollars.
Francisco de Quevedo
Translated by Thomas Walsh
Stick Boy and Match Girl in love
ReplyDeleteTim Burton (EEUU, 1958 - )
Stick Boy liked Match Girl,
He liked her a lot.
He liked her cute figure,
he thought she was hot.
But could a flame ever burn
for a match and a stick?
It did quite literally;
he burned up quick