Poem
Hiroshi Kawasaki
Memory
Doesn\'t your flesh rememberThat we worshipped fire
That we danced wearing bones
That we twisted off the long thin neck of a bird
That we roasted a goat
And wrapped it gently in large soft leaves
And ate it?
Do you remember
Next to you, your woman was stirring
That aromatic thick brown goo
For a long, long time?
Do you remember
Inside the cave we drew graffiti
Of an afternoon nap and coitus
In mustard-colored cuneiform?
Do you remember
The village chief was older than anyone else
More gigantic than anyone else
And he answered every question we asked?
© Translation: 2006, Takako Lento
MEMORY
© 1968, Hiroshi Kawasaki
From: Poems
Publisher: Kokubunsha,
From: Poems
Publisher: Kokubunsha,
Poems
Poems of Hiroshi Kawasaki
Close
Memory
Doesn\'t your flesh rememberThat we worshipped fire
That we danced wearing bones
That we twisted off the long thin neck of a bird
That we roasted a goat
And wrapped it gently in large soft leaves
And ate it?
Do you remember
Next to you, your woman was stirring
That aromatic thick brown goo
For a long, long time?
Do you remember
Inside the cave we drew graffiti
Of an afternoon nap and coitus
In mustard-colored cuneiform?
Do you remember
The village chief was older than anyone else
More gigantic than anyone else
And he answered every question we asked?
© 2006, Takako Lento
From: Poems
From: Poems
Memory
Doesn\'t your flesh rememberThat we worshipped fire
That we danced wearing bones
That we twisted off the long thin neck of a bird
That we roasted a goat
And wrapped it gently in large soft leaves
And ate it?
Do you remember
Next to you, your woman was stirring
That aromatic thick brown goo
For a long, long time?
Do you remember
Inside the cave we drew graffiti
Of an afternoon nap and coitus
In mustard-colored cuneiform?
Do you remember
The village chief was older than anyone else
More gigantic than anyone else
And he answered every question we asked?
© 2006, Takako Lento
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