Читать книгу Divide and Rule - Walid Bitar - Страница 5

The stratagems of the enemy,

subject of pre-war conversation,

wiped smiles off his and our faces

when reality became unspeakable.

I loved him once – may he rest assured

in a crypt I spent the morning sealing.

I awoke feeling misunderstood,

therefore decided I’d clear my throat,

carve in stone maxims inchoate

when I was in a better position

to mutter something, mean nothing by it.

Now I’m forced to act after I speak

in our circle of mandarins,

some intimating they need a bit extra

to distinguish them from their closest friends

on whom they turn, barbarism feigned.

How did we lose the shared sense of humour

claimed later by each as his own?

There are various versions of events,

the solution conflating them all

before they multiply, the gossip

in both my ears, and out both others.

The good reason: I hired a double

the research shows helps a man grow,

grasping though I am for ideals

formerly held at a lesser distance.

Almost as easy wrestling free

as raising arms high in surrender,

regaling audiences, their feet of clay

not any archetypal model’s,

so I must sculpt them. Rather painful –

mission accomplished with an iron fist.