A keresés eredménye

The Smell

Lying on the grass
just a moment before
making love.
A cricket is singing,
the air around here is so nice...
what a smell!
Slowly, I go back to caressing her petticoat...
it must be the zone!
 
We go looking for a better place
and there I find again
my tenderness.
She's such a dear girl,
I start feeling excited...
it's not a smell, it's actually a stink!
I attempt hugging her to close her nostrils...
it's unbearable!
 
I can't make it,
I'm starting to feel a little nauseous, too,
I'm feeling dizzy.
I don't ever feel bad in the city,
the air suits me better.
A bar made out of aluminum,
I sit down and I feel like a lord...
the smell is still there,
the smell is following me, it's everywhere now,
I can't, I have it on me now!
 
I go home, I sit on the bed, I lay down, I relax,
it's still there!
I sniff myself, I smell it stronger, an awful smell,
I take off my clothes, I'm naked now...
my smell, my smell...
What if it's me,
what if it's me, what if it's me!?
Wait, let's calm down, let's think!
 
I take a nice bath,
I wash, everywhere,
very carefully.
I put talcum powder, too,
I'm pure as a baby...
Damn!
Now I need to not get impressed, though...
It's making me puke!
 
I can't bear it,
this kind of smell won't go away
just with a wash.
It would take a rinse cycle,
low-foam detergents!
I cover myself in creams, perfumes,
from head to toe...
the stink it's stronger,
it's under my skin, I'm disgusted at my self,
such an ignorant, stinky body!
What am I going to do with all the people loving and appreciating me,
what will I do?
There's nothing to be done, the stink is stronger than before,
it's disgusting!
Me, someone who used to have so many friends, a hard worker,
I made a career, it's not right for me to lose it,
I'm a self-made man,
I'm a self-made man!
Someone who knows so many people, who came from nothing,
I'm in a good place, it's not right for me to lose it,
I'm a self-made man, I'm a self-made man,
I'm a self-made man...
I'm a shitty-made man!
 

My fathers

My fathers, the fathers I had
were serious and careful
gray clothes, calm and poised manners
even when having fun.
 
They talked with their housewives
with that old master attitude
that certain amount of coolness and superiority.
 
My fathers, poetry enthusiasts
in their old flats
under the pendant glass lamps
behind discrete covers
 
They talked and discussed
as old moldy Europeans
imprisoned by wisteria and stupidity.
 
My fathers, the fathers I had
in a sort of weird Italy
could never do without dreaming
the Italian eastern Africa.
 
My fathers resemble a little
the photos of old riflemen
who showed their dignity in color.
 
My father didn't inspire happiness
they closed the doors of everything
and for lively energetic boys and girls
they didn't have any respect.
 
They punished and forgave
as old school teachers
impressed by heart
and morality.
 
But they had some sort of consistence
and they seemed like people
people from a past
going away by itself.
 
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The old man

Broad daylight, on the perimeter wall of a school, there are three red posters. Three instances, hung one next to the other. An argument, printed in a minuscule font, but with an enormous title: ATTENTION CITIZENS, a kind of literature no one ever reads, except once in a while, an old gentleman who stops by, puts on his glasses and deciphers it line by line until the end.
Then he steps back, shaking his head, puts his glasses back into the case, puts the case into the pocket, and resumes his walk, puzzled, wondering whether he missed the essential part.
Once in a while, in fact, some suspicious word stands out, like an enlightening torch. And the sentence this word enlightens, seems to hide many things for an instant... or nothing at all.
The perfectly oiled mechanism of life goes on. The man is already distant.
 
Unless a secondary source is specified below, you may use this translation wherever you want as long as you publish it with a visible link to this page. Otherwise check the source.

Coconuts

Chorus: so hungry so hungry so hungry so hungry so hungry so hungry so hungry so hungry so (goes on in the background)
 
-And here on this deserted island, there's nothing to eat, so hungry so hungry, poor us all so united so supportive, all equal with nothing to eat. Ueh ueh, I see coconuts, yes, there are a lot of coconuts.
 
Chorus: Nice hurray finally we found coconuts we found coconuts we found coconuts we found coconuts we found coconuts
 
-No, I found coconuts
 
Chorus: Uhh c'mon
 
-Yes, I found coconuts, so I'm the one who eats them
 
Chorus: But we're also hungry
 
-No, see boys, let's thing of a reasoning. In life not all men are equal.
There are normal men and ingenious men, not by chance, I found the coconuts.
 
-What are you even going to do with many coconuts?
 
-Now I'll see
 
Chorus: You are alone and we are a lot
 
-What matters is not the number, but smartness of the person
 
Chorus: you are alone and we are a lot
 
-Don't you think you're scaring me with threats?
 
Chorus: You are alone and we are a lor
 
-It's true, I am alone and they are a lot, I need to calm them down, I mean not the coconuts. I need to think of something, something right, civilized, let's not start with violence. Respect, respect of what we are, of what we have, something serious, important, democratic. I got it, I'll invent state
 
Chorus: Fratelli D'Italia*
 

The car

A car, a brand new clean car. Engine alright, last inspection done, everything working. Shiny, painted, well-finished. Small cloche gearbox, finishing to the junction with a quilted lucid fake leather folding. The space for coins, a really modern rectangle, rough black. Plastic window ashtrays, opaque black, perfectly working. A hand, a man's white hand, not much furry, moves slowly. It opens a deflector, the glass slips, it lightly creaks, a subtle acute noise. Then silence, a head gets closer, it leans on the glass, a drop gently falls from the motionless forehead. The man is motionless, the car is too. A freeway, a freeway of stationary cars, many, very many stationary cars. A line of stationary cars.
 
Something happened, something happened, horn noises, flashing sirens
yes, something at the 107th kilometer, a truck.
 
Still silence.
 
The line is stationary, someone gets off their car, silence, a complete silence. Someone is heard speaking English in the distance, whispering like in a dream. There's still the distant noise of a muffled siren's lament. Everyone goes back on the cars, the line slowly moves forward, a few shy exciting overtakings.
 
Hundred-twenty, hundred-fifty, hundred-ninety, blinker, overtaking, blinker, overtaking, horn.
 
The first tunnel, position lamps, overtaking. The second tunnel, the landscape moves, it's not horizontal anymore, green spots above and below, it stretches into little stairs, skipping, pleasantly. Tunnel, dark, light. Tunnel, dark, light. Tunnel, dark light.
 
Breach, here we go.
 
The sea, the sea, the sea
 
Unless a secondary source is specified below, you may use this translation wherever you want as long as you publish it with a visible link to this page. Otherwise check the source.

When I will be able to love

When I will be able to love
I probably will not need
to murder my father in secret
nor to make love with my mother in a dream.
 
When I will be able to love
with my woman I will neither have
arrogance and fragility
of a childish man.
 
When I will be able to love
I will need a woman who really is
Who does not throng my existence
but I do not stay far away even with the thought.
 
I will want a woman that if I fondle
an armchair, a book or a rose
she would want to be only
that thing
 
When I will be able to love
I will want a woman who never changes
but from big to small issues
everything will make sense because she exists.
 
I can look inside her heart
and get closer to its mystery
not like when I think
but like when I breathe.
 
When I will be able to love
I will make love as it comes to my mind
without the stress to prove
without asking if we were fine
 
And in the silence of the nights
with tired eyes and a cheerful mind
to feel that even sleep is life
and not rest.
 
When I will be able to love
I would like a love
who has none rendez vous
with obligation
 
A love without the feeling of guilt
without any remorse
selfish and natural like a river
which runs its course.
 
Without evil or good actions
without other strange deviations
that even if the river could have them
I would still go to the sea.
 
So as I would like to love.
 
FranceA