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Wammes, Ad - Ode on Celestial Music

De boosheid van een man over de ondraaaglijke lichtheid van het bestaan

Ode on Celestial Music

 
Its not celestial Music, it’s the girl downstairs in the bathroom singing.
You can tell. Although it’s winter
The trees outside her window have grown leaves,
All manner of flowers push up through het floorboards.
I think – what a filthy trick that is for nature to play on me.
I snip them with my scissors shouting,
“I want only bona fide celestial music!”
Hearing this, she stops singing.
 
Out of her bath now the girl knocks on my door.
“Is my singing disturbing you?” she smiles entering,
“Did you say it was licentious or sensual, and excuse me
My bathtowl’s slipping.”
A warm and blond creature,
I slam the door on her breasts shouting
“I want only bona fide celestial music!”
 
Much later on in life I wear my hearing aid.
What have I done to my body, ignoring it –
Splitting things into so many pieces
My hands cannot mend anything.
The stars, the buggers, remained silent.
Down in the bathroom now her daughter is singing.
Turning my hearing aid full volume I bend close to the floorboards
Hoping for at least one song to get through.

 


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