domenica 27 maggio 2012

Time for Harvest

To the house of the Master 
I went
to surrender the harvest.

Wearing a conceited bowtie
the crow welcomed me at the entrance
and made me scrape life off of my boots.

Dead, but with clean boots
I stepped into the long corridor of canvassed faces.

And I walked, slowly
upon that never-ending carpet
that their fathers had laid over the bones of my fathers.

Once at the crossroads,
women’s laughter and spectral ladies
I saw passing through the walls.

It’s late, the crow cried
it’s late.

Because a feast was beginning at the Master’s house.
I could already hear the music and the steps of a mournful dance
denying the holiness of the night...

They hastily introduced me to the clock-room:
it was time to surrender.

I humbly lowered my head
just as I had been told to do on the day
when they’d stolen the words from my mouth and the joy from my heart.

But who was I kneeling to?

It was odd that during all those grey years
I had not realized
that there was no Master nor had there ever been one.

There were only two crows
inside the clock-room.

They looked frightened and ravenous,
victims and executioners of a game
that was as old as that house.

I looked at them.

They looked at me.

And it was then that I sang my black sermon,
a sermon full of pain and rage for the life that I had lost.

An instant later I heard the foundations creaking
and much pointless croaking.

Because the roof fell on the crows, on the clock, on the ladies
and on the rest of that bleak cathedral.

And I, I who had gone to surrender the harvest

went back home singing.

by J.R. Forbus

4 commenti:

  1. I like this stanza:
    "And I walked, slowly
    upon that never-ending carpet
    the same that their fathers had laid on the bones of my father"

    per-destined and per-determined pathway. It is up to you change but most of the time a typical person ends up like everyone else. like the masses.
    Or at least that is my interpretation.

    RispondiElimina
  2. It is a good interpretation: singing a black sermon ain't everyone's business. It takes courage and understanding and ultimately a love for life and freedom.

    RispondiElimina
  3. As usual... I love your poems... (as I said on aphorism.it! And I haven't forgotten about the contest... I just need to come up with a good idea... or see if I already wrote something on that subject! :-)
    Ciao Katia

    RispondiElimina
  4. ... and, as usual, you are too kind with me! :) I look forward to read your "rebellious" poem then, and wish you a grand day.

    RispondiElimina