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October 28, 2007
Totally Unrelated Blog-a-Thon: "The Impact of the Cities," after Bertolt Brecht. [AN URBAN ADVENTURE IN 18 IMAGES.]
Leave the woman where she is.
She has two arms of her own
And two legs for that matter
(Which, sir, are no longer any affair of yours).
See that you yourself come through.
If you've got anything more to say
Say it to me, I'll forget it.
There's no one here to observe you.
If you come through
You'll have done more
Than anyone's obliged to.
Don't mention it.
Give up your dream that they will make
An exception in your case.
What your mother told you
Binds no one.
There's a home for you here
There's room for your things.
Move the furniture about to suit yourself
Tell us what you need
Here is the key
Stay here.
Here's where you're to sleep
The sheets are still clean
They're only been slept in once.
That's the room
Hurry up, or you can also stay
The night, but that costs extra
I shan't disturb you.
You'll be as well off here as anywhere else
So you might as well stay.
When I speak to you
Coldly and impersonally
Using the driest words
Without looking at you
(I seemingly fail to recognize you
In your particular nature and difficulty.)
I speak to you merely
Like reality itself
(Sober, not to be bribed by your particular nature
Tired of your difficulty)
Which in my view you seem not to recognize.
The cities were built for you. They are eager to welcome you.
The doors of the houses are wide open. The meal
Is ready on the table.
As the cities are very big
Experts have drawn maps for
Those who do not know the program, showing clearly
The quickest way to reach
One's goal.
As nobody knew exactly what you wanted
You are of course expected to suggest improvements.
Here or there
There may be some little thing not quite to your taste
But that will be put right at once
Without your having to lift a finger.
In short, you will be
In the best possible hands. Everything is completely ready.
All you
Need do is come.
Fall in! Why are you so late? Now
Just a minute! No, not you! You
Can clear out, we know you; it's no use your trying
To shove your way in here. Stop! Where do you think you're going?
So, of an evening, when we three sit drinking
And my friend shoves the cigarettes aside
And turns his eyes toward her, damply blinking
I see to it her glass is never empty
Forcing her willy-nilly to drink plenty
That she may notice nothing in the night.
[Text: Bertolt Brecht; Images © 2007 Ray Pride. Thanks: BB, SR, TL.] [This is entry 2,000 in this version of Movie City Indie.]
Posted by Ray Pride at October 28, 2007 01:58 PM
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