for my long-suffering, poetry-loving doctor sister: Thadshayani
« She must suffer to her last breath. (…) They'll all soon be as Dead as 0-Ren Ishii. »
« That woman deserves her Revenge. And we deserve to die. »
From « Kill Bill Vol.1 »
Two French girls in Paris
one aged thirteen
the other fourteen
together take wing.
The police bring them back home.
Then hand-in-hand they jump
from their seventeenth floor flat.
They leave behind a note:
« This life has nothing to offer.
What are we living for? »
An Austrian socialist philosopher-journalist in Paris
in perfect physical health
lies down beside his terminally ailing English wife
never to wake again together
after bequeathing their papers and wealth
not to the Socialist Party
but to a Catholic charity.
He leaves behind a long love letter
his very last remember-me book.
Till death does not do us part.
A Stateless poet passes through Paris
with his putative Spanish spouse
and infant boy.
Paris casts a covetous eye on the mother.
She plans the poet's murder
and maims her son for life.
The People's protectors pressgang her
and daily pound the poet to pulp.
Vive! la France! Viva! la Francia!
A lone coyote trumpets over the sakura strewn snow
A moanful flute tugs at nostalgic heartstrings
Meiko Kaji comes on with her plaintive lilt:
We've not long to go in this void
The still frozen air gasps through swishing slices
spurting Strüwel-Peter blood and bones
cherry blossoms on the snow-clad parapet
struck down by the lethally-chilled sheen
of the Hattori Hanzo steel
To kill there need be no will
The will to kill resides in the sill
of the vengeful white of the eye
Even if we can't stand it any longer, Lady
We'd rather not leave just yet in a hurry
Would we see the likes of this world again
Ever know what's better than this domain
Unknown to us the slow melodious dirge
Tugs at us: stay yet a while, it whispers!
Who knows who'd be there to receive us
Yes, yes, stay yet a while, little lady!
Hum a sentimental ditty
Recall even a fated memory
Revive some moments of levity:
A friend a face an outing
A little tenderness
A tiny moment of harmony
Together in this wilderness
(© T. Wignesan - Paris November 14 2007 - Rev.2012)