donderdag 14 augustus 2008
"Almería" (Pablo Neruda)
Dank Marieke!
Almería
A dish for the Bishop, a dish that's well-kneaded and bitter,
A dish made of iron-ends, ashes, a dishful of tears,
A dish overflowing with sobbing and walls that have fallen,
A dish for the Bishop, a platter of blood - Almería
A dish for the Banker, a dish that's contrived from the cheeks
Of the happy South's children, a bowl of
Explosions, crazed waters, of ruins and terror,
A dish of smashed axles, a dish of heads trampled on,
A black dish, a tray of blood for him - Almería
Each noon, each turbid morning of your lives
Pungent it glows and faces you on table,
Push it away a touch with soigné hands,
The sight offends, digestion is not able...
Let it stand awhile between the bread and the grapes there!
This dish of silent blood that
Will be there every morning, each, every
Morning
A dish for the Colonel, 2 dish for the frau of the Colonel,
At the fête in the barracks, a dish at every banquet there,
Nobler than oats or spittle, under that light of morning
Sharp as wine and cold over the world, behold it, you, trembling
Yes, a dish for the lot of you, the rich of the whole earth,
Ambassadors, ministers, guests in abominable assembly,
Aristocrats, landowners, writers labelled neutrality,
Ladies of tea-room and of divan ease -
A dish of destruction, befouled with the blood of the poor,
Every noon, every week, for ever and ever from now on,
Before you, a dishful of blood - Almería - for ever,
Pablo Neruda
(translation by Nancy Cunard)
Neruda zie hier.