Febrero 07, 2006
"Government", de Carl Sandburg
The Government—I heard about the Government and
I went out to find it. I said I would look closely at
it when I saw it.
Then I saw a policeman dragging a drunken man to
the callaboose. It was the Government in action.
I saw a ward alderman slip into an office one morning
and talk with a judge. Later in the day the judge
dismissed a case against a pickpocket who was a
live ward worker for the alderman. Again I saw
this was the Government, doing things.
I saw militiamen level their rifles at a crowd of
workingmen who were trying to get other workingmen
to stay away from a shop where there was a strike
on. Government in action.
Everywhere I saw that Government is a thing made of
men, that Government has blood and bones, it is
many mouths whispering into many ears, sending
telegrams, aiming rifles, writing orders, saying
“yes” and “no.”
Government dies as the men who form it die and are laid
away in their graves and the new Government that
comes after is human, made of heartbeats of blood,
ambitions, lusts, and money running through it all,
money paid and money taken, and money covered
up and spoken of with hushed voices.
A Government is just as secret and mysterious and sensitive
as any human sinner carrying a load of germs,
traditions and corpuscles handed down from
fathers and mothers away back.
Government : Carl Sandburg Poem : Poetry Archive : Sanjeev.NET
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Agosto 21, 2005
La carretera (Ernesto Cardenal)
La carretera
Estamos abriendo una carretera
a Chichén Itzá
              todos los del pueblo
para conectar nuestra aldea de Chan Kom
con Chichén Itzá
Aunque nunca vendrán los turistas
y la carretera no dará dinero.
("La Carretera de la Luz"
            le llamamos los del pueblo).
Todavía faltan muchos kilómetros
pero desde los árboles más altos
de la selva, vemos allá lejos
en el horizonte
            un triángulo blanco:
        las ruinas del castillo
              de Chichén Itzá.
Referencia
- Ernesto Cardenal (1972): "La carretera", en: Homenaje a los indios americanos. Cuadernos Latinoamericanos, 9. Buenos Aires: Ediciones Carlos Lohlé P. 82.
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Agosto 20, 2005
Death of the American Indian's God (Gregory Corso)
Death of the American Indian's God
The Mandan village is covered with snow
The blanketed chiefs on parfleches blow
Women in tufts of weasel press tapioca
And the lacrosse game is almost over —
Fling wompsikkucks at the Evening Star
The Mighty One Tirawa Atius is lain
       on the bright travois
He in His own raced hills and valleys
      wore skins birds and calumets
He in His own the laughing Koyemshi
       dogclowned all our sunsets
Give proper ceremony O Pawnee
The last caribou has been arrowed
       the last trout speared
Beetle bells and medicine yells
Everyone is dressed in crow
      They where the redmen
       feathers-in-their-head men
       now
       down among the dead men
       how
Referencia
- Gregory Corso (1962): "Death of the American Indian's God", en: Long Live Man. ND Paperbook, 127. Nueva York: New Directions Books.
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Agosto 18, 2005
Man (Gregory Corso)
Man
Prologue to what has to be a long long poem
The good scope of him is history, old and ironic;
Not modern history, unfulfilled and blurred —
Bleak damp fierce thunderous lightning days;
Poor caveman, so scared of the outside,
So afeared of its power and beauty,
Created a limit, and called that limit God —
Cell, fish, apeman, Adam;
How was the first man born?
And why has he ceased being born that way?
Air his fuel, will his engine, legs his wheels,
Eyes the steer, ears the alert;
He could not fly, but now he does —
The nails hair teeth bones blood
All in communion with the flesh;
The heart that feels all things in life
And lastly feels in death;
The hands in looks and action are masterful;
The eyes the eyes;
The penis is a magic wand,
The womb is greater than Spring —
I do not know if he be Adam's heir
Or kin to ape,
No man knows; what a good driving mystery —
I can imagine a soul, the soul leaving the body,
The body feeding death, death simply a hygiene;
I can wonder the world the factory of the soul,
The soul putting on a body like a workman's coveralls,
Building, unbuilding, rebuilding.
That man can think soul is a great strange wonderful thing —
In the beginning was the word; man has spoken —
The Jews, the Greeks; chaos groping behind;
Exalted dignity sings; the blind angel's cithara
Twanged no chain-reaction that World War be the Trojan War,
Not with the goddess Eris denied a wedding seat;
No praise of man in my war, wars have lost their legendariness —
The Bible sings man in all his glory;
Great Jew, man is hard stem of you,
Was you first spoke love, O noble survivor;
The Greeks are gone, the Egyptians have all but vanished;
Your testament yet holds —
The fall of man stands a lie before Beethoven,
A truth before Hitler —
Man is the victory of life,
And Christ be the victory of man —
King of the universe is man, creator of gods;
He knows no thing other than himself
And he knows himself the best he can;
He exists as a being of nature
And sustains all things in being;
His dream can go beyond existence —
Greater the rose?
The simple bee does not think so;
When man sings birds humble to piety;
What history can the whale empire sing?
What genius ant dare break from anthood
As can man from manhood?
King Agamemnon! Mortal man!
Ah, immortality —
Referencia
- Gregory Corso (1962): Man, en: Long Live Man ND Paperbook, 127. Nueva York: New Directions Books. Pp. 9-10
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