Gyula Illyes: One sentence about oppression Translated by rongyi
Do you know what is to be in the hand of a Tyrant, in the system of oppression? Here is a poem from a poet who felt it on his own skin and tried to define.
Gyula Illyes: One sentence about oppression
(Egy mondat a zsarnoksagrol)
Translated by Rongybaba
Where is an oppression
That oppression exist
Not only in the gun’s barrel
Not only in the prison cells
Not only in the rooms of catechize
Not only in the night watch’s
Yelling of time,
In the darkest night.-
That oppression exist
Not only in the stench full smog
Of the closing speech of the prosecutor,
In the forced confession,
In the tapping on the wall
of the code of Morse,
Not only in the Judge’s frigid voice.
But it is in the expected verdict of condemned-
There is an oppression
Not only in the harsh military order of
“ Stand up” “Fire”,
But in the sound of the beating drum,
And it is in:
As they dropp the corpse in the gutter,
There is an oppresion
Not only in the secretly passed messages through the ajar doors,
Or in the sound of a shush, -
But where is an oppression exist
There is an oppression exist!
Not only in the painful screaming
behind the motionless face,
Or in the tears of a growing silence,
Or in the dilating pupils, -
It is in the car‘s squeaking in the night
And it is at the garden gate,
And in the telephone
When you say hello,
You sense it trough the wires:
there is a stranger listens and not only there,
But the bug is on the train, airplane,
Between the pair of rail, in the knots of the rope
Because there is oppression,
Not only in the non stopping clapping
during the standing ovations,
Not only in the opera house,
not only in the trumpet’s sound, -
It is there in the stone statues on the corners,
It is in the doleful pictures and in every boring frames.
It is in the garden, and in the garden gates,
Because oppression exist in everything!
The life turns to be nothing like have been before;
Not even your faith in God,
Because oppression exist in the kindergarten,
In the father’s advice,
And it is there as the mother smiles,
And as the child stutters in his answer
For a stranger,
And as you look back before you whisper,
It is there not only in the barbed wire fence,
Not only in the empty phrases in the book’s sentences,
that paralyze more, than the barbed wire fence,
Oppression is there:
In the spouses goodbye kisses,
when they ask each other
Darling when will I see you again?
It is on the street,
in the everyday: how are you?
In the suddenly limp handshakes,
Or on your lover’s frozen face;
Because oppression is there with you
during your dates,
It is there not only in the interrogation,
But in the confession,
and in the sweet words of propaganda.
Just like a death insect in your vine
Because even in your dream you have no rights,
It is there in your nuptial bed,
even before you desire your mate with sex,
Because you only like what you can see
through the oppression’s eye,
And you lay done when you only
think of love, not when you feel.
It is on your dinner table
in your plate, and cup.
It’s occupies your nose,
It’s in the dawn, and in the dusk,
It’s out door and indoor,
Just like the stench, can come trough
When you open your window,
Just like the gas leak.
If you murmur to yourself
he is the one with questions and answers,
Even in your own imagination
you can not be independent,
Up there the Milky way is changed,
a borderline, where the reflector seize,
A field of mine; the stars are holes for spies,
A crowded tent in the sky.
A working lager,
Because oppression talks from the fever,
from the sound of the bells,
From the priest whom you confess,
From the Temples, parliament,
And the torture chambers are it’s stages,
When you look around
you can see him everywhere!
Just like a genetic disease
Follows you where ever you go:
It is with you as memory,
As a sound of train wheel, that can not leave..
You are cornered.
It comes his way along with mountains and lakes
It is your air, what you breath
As a thunderbolt light,
unexpectedly you find it in every noise,
In light, heart stop, resting time, motionless boredom.
In a rushing rain,
in a high prison bars,
Even it looks at you back from your pet’s eyes.
Because it is in every aim,
it is in every tomorrows
It is en every thought,
It is in every movement.
As the water in the river bed,
follows and forms it along the way.
It is a bile circle,
it looks at you back from every reflection
It’s stalks you, and there is no place to hide.
You are a prisoner and a jailer at once.
It is the taste of your tobacco,
it is the smell of your cloth,
You want to meditate, but it is in your brain;
You want to see, but you are illuminated by it,
It is surrounds you, because when first dismissed it
You did not killed it!
So from now on it is in charge with you:
In the factory,
on the field,
You don’t know anymore about life,
You don’t taste anymore food,
You don’t love, you have no more desires,
You don’t want to embrace,
You are a slave who took his own cuffs, !
When you eat it grows in you!
It takes your children.
Where is oppression
There is everybody parts of a chain!
It becomes your body odor, and spread;
And you yourself become an oppressor’
Because you become a reason why children stun,
And you make from your spouse a mulish harlot, or a scamp.
As when one looks in the sun, you are blinded
and you feel your cage is too small and hot,
As you would be in the mirage full desert,
Because where is oppression, there is no hope for out!
Just like this song, it is in a false tune,
because the oppression stands over you even at your funeral
And it will give you your memorial
Because you owned by it, with all your soul, body and ashes.
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