I tumbled pinecones and cicada shells with my toecap, then looked up at the patches of sky showing through the pine branches.
Autobiography
I'm old like the world, I who speak to you.
In the dark of origins
I swarmed in the blind furrows of the sea,
Blind myself: but already I wanted the light
When I was still lying in the sea floor's filth.
I swilled salt with a thousand infinitesimal throats;
I was a fish, sleek and fast. I avoided traps,
I showed my young the sidewise tracks of the crab.
Taller than a tower, I offended the sky,
The mountains trembled at my storming step
And my brute hulk obstructed the valleys:
The rocks of your time still sport
The incredible mark of my scales.
I sang to the moon the liquid song of the toad,
And my patient hunger perforated wood.
Impetuous skittish stag
I ran through woods that are ashes today, and gloried in my strength.
I was drunk cicada, astute horrendous tarantula,
And salamander and scorpion and unicorn and asp.
Sayfa 32Kitabı okudu
Sick of his own face, sick of his skin, of the dark, he crawls outside himself to sing-
No work. No home. No money.
Cicada go to top of tall building.
Time to say goodbye.
Sayfa 20
imana gelen ağustos böceği
Bonaventure, Francis'in bir ağustos böceğiyle olan diyaloğunu da aktarır. Ağustos böceğine (cicada) kız kardeşim diye hitap eden Francis, ondan da yaratıcısı olan Rabbe, hamd ve övgüler sunmasını ister. Bunun üzerine ağustos böceği istenileni anlamış gibi cıvıldamaya başlar.
Sayfa 221Kitabı okudu
