#3 Sigfús Daðason (1928 - 1996)
Cities and beaches
XIV (excerpt)
1
What lies what dishonesty what historical disasters.
And despite this the morning still amazes us
like before resembles bright and wide mornings
south wind ocean storm in a city mostly made up of dreams.
Dreams: at their bottom we sensed the merciless attack of reality.
How distant they now seem the endless spring eves
that were truth at the time
for us that strolled along the practically untouched beachfront
in the center of the most improbable city in the world
all all all
is forgotten and erased and becomes new.
.
2
What ship lies anchored by the harbour-mouth
at midmorning between mountain and mountain …
on which wholly new day did we step ashore here
… will we step ashore here?
No risk of encountering machine-guns and rags on this harbour.
Will we perhaps here meet the excessive gleam of imminent death
and other obsolete judgments like it?
Will we forget that this place is linked to others
thread on a chain with other places?
Peculiar chain: here it was forged from gold and silver
there it was processed from the blood of the disgraced.
Everywhere it is ornate with high ideals
of morality and freedom.
– Let us now forget that the chain is one
since here it wasn’t forged from oil’s exclusive freedom
and the ennoblement of sugar-fields.
I once heard the speech of an elderly greek poet
he was breathing his last
and died
a few months later.
When I was becoming a man on the isle of Crete
we all knew that evil existed without condition
we never doubted its whereabouts
and we knew how we should fight it.
This is what he said: for the time being this concept
had lost its theological meaning
and gained a closer meaning which children could grasp
and actively grasped every day
on the island.
I surely know that the din of time is persistent
compared to the momentary haste when a nation’s life
runs onto the solitary blade of justice.
I do not mean to say that time can not just as well
be a different creation.
I know that the messengers of justice are ineffectual
until the audience is willing.
And even though it were some other way
caution must be taken and remember
that nothing is more terrifying than justice.
Still we’ve witnessed that the time eventually arrives
when all our options are hard.
The day will come when deception is deception
disgrace disgrace
no matter how splendid it’s lair once was
no matter how deep the noble idealists
would bow before it into the dirt.
Then and there (for example in Crete sixty years ago
or here and now) the evil becomes real
and not both good and evil.
And the fire that burns is fire
no matter how simple it may seem to the ears
of those that say: the times have changed
but forget to note
that the times keep on changing.
What day of joy rises in suffering:
thousands of voices and millions in harmony
overwhelming the totalitarian voice of tepidity
and the hollow morality of the immoral.
We have seen this happen
– when the nobleminded had proven
that from now on everything would remain motionless –
and surely we will keep on seeing such events
when complicated concepts become tangible like iron
and the opressors soft hand is an opressors hand –
yes: this hand was always sweet to somebody
and as a rule the traitors needed pity more than anyone
yet the day eventually arrived
when we could not show them leniency.
.
3
Oh how strange learnings are revealed
when he recalls anew all the hurt
he thought he’d always known equally well!
… Here your life was decided
your body adjusted to the variations of air
and every season grown into you
every moment of the day kept rhythm to your being.
– Now you may search: seeking keen-sniffing and blind.
What comparison
– in time and space –
is fully valid and worthy
to him who’s neither unfamiliar
nor fully versed?
Will we walk in faint twilight
past the shadows of houses?
neither the glow behind them
nor the open breeze crawling down the street
nor the loud colourlessness and cold hospitality of the surroundings
none of this
yet all of this
is incomparable to anything
and was erased and forgotten.
A moderately developed society – halfbuilt country
even those words are not fully true.
The hurt is true the compassion is true
the familiarity with the most distant
and the least respected
is true.
.
4
……………………………………………………..Corrumpe et impera
“They used to say: thou shalt first sunder then rule –
but we bring a new and sweeter commandment.
Our commandment is magnificent
simple and brilliant
and clear as daylight itself.
Ruling does not agree with our ideals:
subjected nations
have a safe place
in our heart.
We bring a word of peace for those asundered
and we bring comfort for the poor.
We are exponents of freedom:
our liberality is so comprehensive
that it demands freedom for the oppressor
peace for the ruins
right of life for death.
…………….*
Your nation is corrupt
your nation is corrupt in the depths of its being.
But we have a unique touch and rare patience
to play with your nation’s corruption.
Such play comes easy for us
but does indeed not suit others.
Confidentially: if your nation wasn’t fully corrupt
we could provide it with
a little corruption
for we believe in corruption
feed and are fed on corruption.
Afterward we’ll say to you softly:
dear friends
your nation’s corruption is so radical
that even we are hardly able
to deal with it.
And then we’ll also prove to you with statistics
that we and not you
have the strength to fondle
the inescapable congenital and invariable corruption.
This reveals our originality and deep insight
this is where our genius cleaves the cliffs
our insight lights up the oceans.
Homemade shackles
are the strongest shackles.
When we enchain our beloved friends
it is customary for us to stipulate
that they beg us for them
for we feel that it’s the only way seemly for us
and worthy of them.
We need not employ our force
we do not show our fists
(not counting the utmost exceptions
in places
where our fist-force is justified by historical right):
you shall come crawling you shall come crying
and ask us to protect you from yourselves.
Such is the magic of our simple commandment
our predecessors never
learned as well as we
that the neck that spontaneously bows to the yoke
is the one most securely bent.
Yes we believe in the god of corruption
– but in arduous moments
our nerves are gnawed by superstition
and unpredictable mispredictions
sneek up on our historical memories.
Only this surpasses our understanding:
we believed the god of corruption
we saw him rule almighty
at the same moment they rose up
and they rose up.
Only this surpasses our deep insight:
where did they hide from our god
they who rose up?”
Sigfús Daðason
Transl. Eiríkur Örn Norðdahl
