Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Index on Censorship: Banned Poetry

Okay for the first time in this blog I won't be talking about sex, Starbucks or any professors. No bitterness, thrashtalking or whatever shit I did before (see "all the time").

I haven't read a great poem for a while until my wifey showed me two poems from Vol. 26 5/1997 of the book Index on Censorship: Banned Poetry edited by Peter Porter and Harriet Harvey Wood.

I thought I "should" share these two poems because they're not just good reads, they also contain fucking morals (no pun intended). Also, they're very touching (I have emotions too, you know).

I know you're all very smart people so I don't think that you would be needing any explanation for each poem.

Please read it and tell me what you think about it. Opinions are always welcome.


The Children… and my Children
by Shamih al-Qasim
translation by Abdullah al-Udhari

When children are born
They’re given names
Chosen from the treasured family tree;
Their future secured
By saving schemes
And at Christmas
And other feasts
They’re given new clothes

When my children are born
They’re greeted with affectionate tears
And the shiver of fear.
The eyes of mangy dogs
Are waiting for them
Police batons
And the longterm plans
Of the death squad
Are waiting for them.
When my children are born
Their tiny coffins are waiting for them

-------------------------------------------------------


Crazed Man in Concentration Camp

By Agnes Gergely
translation by Edwin Morgan

All through the march, besides bag and blanket
he carried in his hands two packages of empty boxes,
and when the company halted for a couple of minutes
he laid the two packages of empty boxes neatly at each side,
being careful not to damage or break either of them,
the parcels were of
ornamental boxes
dovetailed by sizes each to each
and tied together with packing-cord,
the top box with a picture on it.

When the truck was about to start, the sergeant
shouted something in sergeant’s language,
they sprang up suddenly,
and one of the boxes rolled down the wheel,
the smallest one, the one with the picture:
‘It’s fallen,’ he said and made to go after it,
but the truck moved off
and his companions held his hands
while his hands held the two packages of boxes
and his tears trailed down his jacket.

‘It’s fallen,’ he said that in evening in the queue—
and it meant nothing to him to be shot dead.

8 Comments:

Anonymous arvee said...

anne frank's entry over at the F encyclopedia we have here always gets my hairs standing. really.

why did you choose to post such disturbing entries? though theyre less bothering than anne frank's ihave to admit.

March 20, 2007 at 11:16:00 PM GMT+8  
Blogger samuel said...

Mmmm...

I didn't realize your were also a large fan of poetry like Ana.

If you ask me I liked the one about the babies.

"Their tiny coffins are waiting for them"

is a good line.

Of course I wouldn't trust my judgement much when it comes to this genre of literature.

The Methaphors are too much for my imagination to handle.

or

I'm just to lazy to interpret it actual meaning. XD

March 21, 2007 at 6:29:00 AM GMT+8  
Anonymous mayi said...

very nice.

tugged my heart into all sides until all that was left are bits and pieces.

March 21, 2007 at 1:46:00 PM GMT+8  
Anonymous tin said...

Hmm. something serious.

After getting knocked out of academic studs? Engk. not a good timing for me, i'm afraid.

I liked the second poem. somehow shows something deeper even though he's a soldier who kills enemies by order. At least he was able to put his center from himself. That could be the essence of living right?

AS for the 1st poem, i have to reread again. Then it just struck me through the name of the author and the translator. They didn't come from war countries, were they?

Coz that'll explain his/her (can't distinguish which gender) perspective about having children. WHat I know is that they were raised to be somebody, not to be who they want to be. Men determined the lives of the children, that's why there's no other way of living, than being pampered in the beginning, taught to be somebody later, and eventually die in what 'they' think is the most appropriate.

I agree with sam. That was a good line.
"When my children are born,
Their tiny coffins are waiting for them"

Hm. THat's how i see it though.

Did I just make you frown and reread this comment?

Xenxa dude. I'm also in the "bangag-hypermode" state. ^_^ mwah! happy vacation!

March 22, 2007 at 1:30:00 AM GMT+8  
Anonymous paula said...

gara.. XD mahilig ka pala sa mga poetry na may mabigat na meaning... XD hehe XD

March 22, 2007 at 5:01:00 PM GMT+8  
Anonymous ana said...

I like the first poem. Nakakaiyak.

March 22, 2007 at 5:51:00 PM GMT+8  
Blogger the_fallen said...

I have emotions too, you know.

we don't know that. thank you very much for enlightening us. joke lng poli.

cno c wifey ha? me lover kn, me wifey kp? sobra ka na poli ah!

March 23, 2007 at 3:24:00 AM GMT+8  
Anonymous miyuchi said...

sad
dark
doomed.

that's how I see it.

March 23, 2007 at 6:45:00 PM GMT+8  

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