The Survivor
Primo LeviEn Eski The Survivor Gönderileri
En Eski The Survivor kitaplarını, en eski The Survivor sözleri ve alıntılarını, en eski The Survivor yazarlarını, en eski The Survivor yorumları ve incelemelerini 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.Buna
Wounded feet and cursed earth,
The line long in the gray mornings.
Buna's thousand chimneys smoke,
A day like every other day awaits us.
The sirens are terrific in the dawn:
‘You, multitude with wasted faces,
Another day of suffering begins
On the monotonous horror of the mud.'
I see you in my heart, exhausted comrade;
Suffering comrade, I can read your eyes.
In your breast you have cold hunger nothing
The last courage has been broken in you.
Gray companion, you were a strong man,
A woman traveled next to you.
Empty comrade who has no more name,
A desert who has no more tears,
So poor that you have no more pain,
So exhausted you have no more fear,
Spent man who was a strong man once:
If we were to meet again
Up in the sweet world under the sun,
With what face would we confront each other?
Sayfa 1Kitabı okudu
February 25, 1944
I'd like to believe something beyond,
Beyond death destroyed you.
I'd like to be able to say the fierceness
With which we wanted then,
We who were already drowned,
To be able someday to walk again together
Free under the sun.
Sayfa 4Kitabı okudu
Shemà
You who live safe
In your heated houses
You who come home at night to find
Hot food and friendly faces:
Consider if this is a man,
Who toils in the mud
Who knows no peace
Who fights for half a loaf
Who dies by a yes or a no.
Consider if this is a woman,
With no hair and no name
With no more strength to remember
With empty eyes and a womb as cold
As a frog in winter.
Ponder that this happened:
I consign these words to you.
Carve them into your hearts
At home or on the street,
Going to bed or rising:
Tell them to your children.
Or may your house fall down,
May illness make you helpless,
And your children turn their eyes from you.
Sayfa 6Kitabı okudu
Monday
What is sadder than a train?
That leaves on time,
That only makes one sound,
That only goes one way.
Nothing's sadder than a train.
Unless it is a cart horse.
It's locked between two poles.
It can't even look askance.
Its whole life is plodding.
And a man? Isn't a man sad?
If he lives alone for long
If he thinks time is over,
A man's a sad thing, too.
Sayfa 9Kitabı okudu
After R. M. Rilke
Lord, it is time: the wine's fermenting now.
The time has come to have a house,
Or to go without one a long time.
The time has come to not be alone,
Or we'll live alone for a long time:
We'll spend the hours at our books,
Or writing letters to far away,
Long letters from our solitude;
And we'll pace up and down the avenues,
Restless, while the leaves fall.
Sayfa 10Kitabı okudu
Sunset at Fòssoli
I know what it means not to come back.
Through barbed wire I've seen
The sun go down and die.
I've felt the old poet's words
Tear at my flesh:
‘Suns can set and rise again:
For us, once our brief light is spent,
There's one endless night to sleep.'
Sayfa 11Kitabı okudu
The Glacier
We stopped, and dared to look
Into the grieving green jaws below,
And the courage in our hearts went slack
As happens when one loses hope.
A sad power sleeps in him;
And when, in the silence of the moon,
At night he sometimes screams and roars, It's because, torpid giant dreamer that he is, He's trying to turn over but cannot
In his bed of stone.
Sayfa 13Kitabı okudu
wait
This is the time of lightning without thunder,
This is the time of unheard voices,
Restless sleep and pointless sleeplessness.
Comrade, let's not forget the days
Of long easy silences,
Of friendly streets at night,
And calm contemplation,
Before the leaves fall,
Before the sky shuts down again,
Before the familiar clang of iron feet
Rouses us again
Outside our doors.
Sayfa 15Kitabı okudu
Song of the Crow II
‘What is the number of your days? I've counted them:
Few and brief, and each one heavy with cares;
With anguish about the inevitable night, When nothing saves you from yourself;
With fear of the dawn that follows,
With waiting for me, who wait for you,
With me who (hopeless, hopeless to escape!)
Will chase you to the ends of the earth,
Riding your horse,
Darkening the bridge of your ship
With my little black shadow,
Sitting at the table where you sit,
Certain guest at every haven,
Sure companion of your every rest.
‘Till what was prophesied has been accomplished,
Until your strength disintegrates,
Until you too end
Not with a bang but in silence,
The way the trees go bare in November,
The way one finds a clock stopped.'
Sayfa 16Kitabı okudu