Among other economies, I'm of two
minds, one possessed, the other
a deep peace. Violent trembling
seizes me, launched in the interval.
Enemy of children, of quaint little
things, of jokes and pictures. Enemy
of comic papers and caricatures, of
water-drinking. Too short for tragedy.
Rarely has a large or distant expedition
ever succeeded in its object, as may be
seen in the failure of foreign missions, of
human development, the immediate phenomena.
Sympathy for the victors, who gallantly
perish. Collateral catastrophes, as if they
had a will. The more distinctive visual images
sail too long, relinquish, burst.
The "inner voice" is playing a game. Eagerness
and obstinacy. A mysterious invisible
placed in the mouth. We know too well how
terrible it is to contend against personality.
The whole idyll vanishes. Southward along
a coastline, down among cities. Across the
gulf to the promontory. Probably
astonished. Not without mistrust.
You are now my prisoner. Physically I am
myself. Cultivated living, good manners, rich
food and drink, order and elegance in
my house. Erect military bearing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem