Those pages of salvation until the ink boiled red.
When they finally caught me I cursed every soul still on
Their knees and damned the midnight lamps that
bled through two-faced windows. When they told me
“Son, you have nothing to howl about.”, My voice
Became a whisper. In the prison they put us in
There are no bars, guards, or machine gun towers.
People come and go like moths to hellfire.
Like mass extinction and funeral pyres.
Not once did I think about escaping. Until,
The girl in the cell next to mine started screaming. Until
She clawed so deep her arms started breathing. Until
She swallowed that bullet and called it leaving. Until
I finally learned what it really meant to stop bleeding.
I started seeing through the blank pages and white walls.
Underneath it all, different prophets sing the same song.
The greatest minds of my generation weren’t driven to madness.
They were born to it. Their first breaths were equal parts smog and
Atomic arrogance. Encumbrance was their only inheritance.
The albatrosses of their mothers stapled to their necks
Like javelins through innocence. The parapets of their fathers
Sneered down at them like wolves challenging resistance.
And when they climbed the walls and finally reached the battlement,
Only two choices were left for them: Assimilation or pestilence.
Atomic arrogance. Encumbrance was their only inheritance."
i was just about to suggest it for a DD before i saw you got it already
if you haven't seen, i've got the way franco recites it stuck in my head
for every sentence i read. he did it so beautifully
Really, that is pretty well written, I admire you so much for writing such a breath-taking, wonderful, sad-feeling-giving, hole-inside-me-leaving lyric!
Maybe you could allow me to translate it into german and post it somewhere here? www.fanfiktion.de/Allgemein/c/…
(There you can, next to other things, upload own and translatet lyrical art, such as poetry or prose)
I´m not doing that the first time (okay - it´s the second time), but I´m pretty good in language-relatet-things (people say - I´m not quite sure but I thought it could be a reference) and I´d promise you the message would be the same as before and all rights - of course, who would I be if not - stay by you. I´d tell them it´s your poem and post the link to this side.
And could I (I know, don´t ask people for more than one pleasures a time, but I just saw it and nearly cried because I thought I had to decide between them, but maybe you could be kind...) also translate "The snowball effect"? I would, I swear, post the links to the side where I would upload it, in the comments beneath the poems they relate.
It would be so cool if you would allow me doing that!
I finally almost finished the Translation (I had a few exams, because of that I was a bit slow…).
Thank you so much, of course I would delete it if you needed to do anything with it. But I got a few problems with literal translation.
You write: I beat the street out of my lungs. Does it mean you cough?
The ink boiled red. Does it vaporize or cook?
Do you mean her arms started breathing? I don´t really understand the sense of breathing arms, though… I first read bleeding or beating, so I´m not that sure how it is meant. I mean, if it is an well-known metaphor, I maybe could translate it more by sense.
In german, burden would sound better than encumbrance, but mean the pretty same. Can I use it instead?
The parapets: Whom do they challenge? The ones looking up to them or the ones they were built against? (it is a difference in our language – it´s hard, I know).Greetings, Serafina
It's good to see that this site has not lost its standards in excellent writing.
Enjoy this evening!
Of the beat poet generation
And the pain and madness
But I love your vision
Of redemption within the pain
Congratz on Daily Deviation