It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie
houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.
The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse
sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.
It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.
Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great
to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.
I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.
I don't want so much misery.
I don't want to go on
What is this poem about? The original is in Spanish.?
It's about the emptiness of modern life. Notice how he's surrounded by things, but there's a complete absence of people except the clerk who he kills? He's lonely, surrounded by dingy, meaningless stuff, which only brings more misery. It's about hopelessness and depression. Btw, try it in Spanish. It gives a better idea of authurial intent. Poetry translations are notoriously bad, since rhyme and rhythm are so important.
Reply:Disgust for self, disgust with the world. Desire to end others lifes, Desire to end own life.
flowers birthday
Monday, January 30, 2012
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