I really need to know if this "game" I like to play makes sense to you! Is it of any interest?
# 10 for the “After … Series”
inspired by G.Stein’s
History or Messages from History
Apart from
eating what can she do...
She cannot eat a banana because she fears sluggishness.
What she eats should be firm, crispy, and crunchy.
The pleasure of eating here is the reason why
they gather as they do.
And time passes by and forks and knives point at the
imaginary numbers of a clock
integrated into their
digestive system of life.
They say life comes first.
She says youth is remarkable and nothing can surpass this nearly perfection
except for boredom. And this time she has to accept and
confess she is tired, even though relatively young enough,
with the process of eating and digesting what seems to
come first. Life itself.
The scene
now shows a woodstove. Sparks … as if under a storm
of hail. Same noise when you shut your eyes. Please shut
your eyes. What are you smelling? A hint of basil, onion,
garlic.... what else ... What else can she do, think, she's so
busy with digesting meaning. What's mean. What it means.
Which means with... Bouncing on these three she manages
to sing.
Songs are beverages. They quench some thirsts. They go
through mouths, stomachs, intestines like liquids ...
Whether alcohol in them or not. So now she knows.
What she can do is obvious: cooking a music meal. She
can do it. She will do it. By any means. For
her and for them.
A part
manger
que peut-elle faire?
Elle ne peut pas manger de banane parce
qu’elle craint la
mollesse. Ce qu’elle mange doit être
ferme, croustillant.
Le plaisir de manger est la raison
pour laquelle ils
se rassemblent ici.
Et le temps passe et couteaux et
fourchettes pointent devant
les nombres imaginaires d'une horloge intégrée
dans leur
système digestif de la vie.
Ils disent la vie vient
en premier.
Elle dit la jeunesse est remarquable
et rien ne surpasse cette presque perfection
sauf l’ennui. Et cette fois elle
doit accepter et même
confesser, bien qu’encore
relativement jeune, elle est
lasse du procédé de manger et de digérer
ce qui semble
venir en premier. La vie elle-même.
La scène
maintenant montre un poêle à bois. Des
étincelles comme si
sous un orage de grêle. Le même
bruit quand vous fermez
les yeux. S’il vous plait fermez les
yeux. Que sentez-vous ?
Un soupçon de basilic, oignon, ail… quoi
d’autre…Que
peut-elle faire d’autre, penser,
elle est si occupée avec le
sens de digérer. Qu’est-ce qui est sensé. Est-ce que
cela a
un sens. Avec quels sens ? Rebondissant
sur ces trois elle
parvient à chanter.
Les chants sont des boissons. Ils
étanchent les soifs. Ils vont
par les bouches, estomacs, intestins
comme des liquides…
Avec de l’alcool ou pas dedans. Maintenant
elle sait. Ce
qu’elle peut faire est évident: cuisiner
un repas musical.
Elle peut le faire. Elle le fera. Dans tous les sens. Pour elle et pour eux.
I like this, I would only wonder at the translation 'relatively young enough', the enough seems tautology to me. But I like to read you, of course.
ReplyDeleteThanks kerri to point this out, it has escaped my viligance. I'll erase the unneeded enough!
ReplyDeleteI like the surrealist play you set up here, with the slight shift of words and context, meanings change and fresh insight gained. I chuckled at 'except for boredom' imagining the wryness of Stein
ReplyDeleteI look forward more.
I don’t know how I feel about 'music meal' - almost too obvious after such musicality. Otherwise it seems quite perfect to me. I really like the dialogue between the bold parts and the not bold - as if the bold were an echo from the reader - and the whole piece a conversation: strophe and antistrophe. "Let me recite what history teaches. History teaches."
ReplyDeleteThanks Magdalena, this piece of advice is precious and I'm working on replacing the musical meal ... the menu is not fixed yet but some casserole of something for sure!
ReplyDelete