Читать книгу The Favourite Game - Leonard Cohen - Страница 33

He would love to have heard Hitler or Mussolini bellow from his marble balcony, to have seen partisans hang him upside down; to see the hockey crowds lynch the sports commissioner; to see the black or yellow hordes get even with the small outposts of their colonial enemies; to see the weeping country folk acclaim the strong-jawed road-builders; to see football fans rip down goal-posts; to have seen the panicking movieviewers stampede Montreal children in the famous fire; to see five hundred thousand snap into any salute at all; to see a countless array of Arabian behinds pointing west; to see the chalices on any altar tremble with the congregational Amen.

And this is where he would like to be:

in the marble balcony

the press-box

the projection-room

the reviewing stand

the minaret

the Holy of Holies

And in each case he wants to be surrounded by the best armed, squint-eyed, ruthless, loyal, tallest, leatherjacketed, technical brain-washed heavy police guard that money can buy.