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Skribent: Simon
Emne: Re: Poetisk fryd..
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Lidt mer' Dylan Thomas, der trænges tydeligvis, men af andre grunde, hvad man jo sagtens forstår; måske endda en lille kordreng benovet ser på, når vor himmelske englebasser skriver guders ord, men vist ikke rigtigt ka' blive enige med hverandre om hvem af dem, der er den største englebasse ...
Shall gods be said to thump the clouds
When clouds are cursed by thunder,
Be said to weep when weather howls?
Shall rainbows be their tunics' colour?
When there is rain where are the gods?
Shall it be said they sprinkle water
From garden cans, or free the floods?
Shall it be said that, venuswise,
Some old god's dugs are pricked and pressed
When milky night is mother of the air?
Shall it be said that this moon's face
Is but the face reflected of some god
Admiring the acres of his brow?
Does gods' blood die the sun?
It shall be said that gods are stone.
Shall a dropped stone thud on the ground,
Flung gravel chime? Let the stones speak
With tongues that talk all tongues.
The gods of stone our fathers worshipped
Are brass and wood if gods weep rain.
If gods thump thunder, then the clouds
Are gods of water, and the bark is brass.
All things are god if gods are thunder.
*
Matthias spat upon the lord
And gained an everlasting curse;
The Reverend Crap, a pious fraud,
Defiles his maker with a word
Dropped from those educated jaws.
Which is the most to be abhorred -
Jew's cob or gentile's praise?
The Reverend Crap, a holy pimp,
Reads the bible and loves children,
Loves to pat a choirboy's rump,
And, following the band of hope,
To stroke the girls behind the organ.
Who shall be cursed - the virgin Crap
Or the poxy whoreman?
- Dylan Thomas, Notebook February 1933.
mvh
Simon
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