{"id":57636,"date":"2021-08-18T11:21:16","date_gmt":"2021-08-18T11:21:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.worldofculture2020.com\/?p=57636"},"modified":"2021-08-18T11:21:16","modified_gmt":"2021-08-18T11:21:16","slug":"the-lost-lautreamont-kingdom","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worldofculture2020.com\/?p=57636","title":{"rendered":"The Lost Lautr\u00e9amont ^ Kingdom"},"content":{"rendered":"
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By Fathi Muhadub | Tunisia<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n
Translation from Arabic Dr. Yousef Hanna | Palestine<\/strong><\/span><\/div>\n
\"\"<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We did not find anyone<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We did not find our old house<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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black tears bows<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Cicada eucalyptus trees<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We found neither gold nor the family horse<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We did not find roses in the garden<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or a butterfly sizzling in the air<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or a dragonfly transporting a precious stone to her highness the queen.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We did not find the blue leopard regret<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Or the drunken gull of imagination<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We didn’t find that canary<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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guarding the elderly neighbor<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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from the foxes of oblivion<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We didn’t find a god in baggy pants and a foolscap hat<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To empty the cloud of my daily misery into his pierced pocket<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To take out our prayer bag with a blind hand<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We did not find Noah or the Titanic<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I did not find a single friend for the funeral of the unspeakable taboo.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I did not find my little lake in your hoarse tone<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I did not find a wide-open door to move from doubt to certainty<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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From the darkness of my residue to the heights of light<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The fire of the mystic let me down in the dense basement<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And my flowers withered with the arsenic of the money changers.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We are killed every day<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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We are buried every day<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The funeral decoration wasn’t appropriate<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Mourners could be counted on one hand,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The porter devoured the flock of coffins,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And the hole is very deep.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Oblivion is sixty meters long<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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dragging the dead chariot into metaphysics.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Instead of widows crying burning wheels,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Instead of the priest’s prayer,<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Great Cormorants are praying.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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This old land swallowed my brothers with a<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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edentulous mouth.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And the porter hid the flock of coffins in the madhouse<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Dear mourners, listen carefully<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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To the rattle of widower’s tears.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\/\/\/<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They were in the last night watch of madness<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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The train will fall into the trap<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And travelers will fly to nowhere<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Instead of the sun, a deer in the casino has shone on<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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They eat my heart with golden spoons<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Cheetahs don’t think about the uproar of guns<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I lost God in the war<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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And I carried water on my back to please the corpses<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I found your mask, O shadow<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Your stained face with mud and crime<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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I discovered the lineage of nothingness<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Dust fighting the soldiers of visible<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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Oh you, nothingness that snatches neighbors in cold blood<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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O Great Spy!<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
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\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640\u0640 ^ Comte de Lautr\u00e9amont: was the nom de plume of Isidore Lucien Ducasse (4 April 1846 \u2013 24 November 1870), a French poet born in Uruguay. His only works, Les Chants de Maldoror and Po\u00e9sies, had a major influence on modern arts and literature, particularly on the Surrealists and the Situationists. Ducasse died at the age of 24.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n