several times a day
and all in vain
instinctively
like the criminal to the crime
my childhood returns
in a rousing fit of hiccups
Talk about calamity
talk about disasters
I’ll tell you
My mother wanted her son to have good manners at the table:
keep your hands on the table
we don’t cut bread
we break it
we don’t gobble it down
the bread your father sweats for
our daily bread
eat the bones carefully and neatly
a stomach has to have good manners too
and a well-bred stomach never
burps
a fork is not a tooth-pick
don’t pick your nose
in front of the whole world
and sit up straight
a well-bred nose
doesn’t sweep the plate
And then
and then
and then in the name of the Father
and the Son
and the Holy Ghost
at the end of every meal
And then and then
talk about calamity
talk about disasters
I’ll tell you
My mother wanted her son to have the very best marks
if you don’t know your history
you won’t go to mass
tomorrow
in your Sunday suit
This child will disgrace our family name
This child will be our in the name of God
be quiet
have I or have I not
told you to speak French
the French of France
the French that Frenchmen speak
French French
Talk about calamity
talk about disasters
I’ll tell you
My mother wanted her son to be a mama’s boy:
you didn’t say good evening to our neighbour
what—dirty shoes again
and don’t let me catch you any more
playing in the street or on the grass or in the park
underneath the War Memorial
playing
or picking a fight with what’s-his-name
what’s-his-name who isn’t even baptized
Talk about calamity
talk about disasters
I’ll tell you
My mother wanted her son to be
very do
very re
very mi
very fa
very sol
very la
very ti
very do-re-mi
fa-sol-la-ti
do
I see you haven’t been to your vi-o-lin lesson
a banjo
did you say a banjo
what do you mean
a banjo
you really mean
a banjo
no indeed young man
you know there won’t be any
ban-or
jo
or
gui-or
tar
in our house
They are not for coloured people
Leave them to the black folks!
For Vashti and Mercer Cook
Léon Damas (1912 - 1978) French Guiana
Translated by Ellen Conroy Kennedy
Source: Beltway Quarterly Poetry
Source: Beltway Quarterly Poetry
thank you for the find
ReplyDeleteIt is interesting that when I showed Dana's my translation of this poem (back in 1970 or 71), he insisted that I use "mulattos" instead of "colored people" for his original "mulâtres." He didn't understand the resonance in English. Also problematic is how to translate "nègres."
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