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Intelectuales apolíticos

Otto René Castillo
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Traduzione inglese 2 / English translation 2 / Traduction anglaise...

APOLITICAL INTELLECTUALS

One day
the apolitical intellectuals
of our land
will be interrogated
by the poorest of people.
They will be asked what they did
while their community
was extinguished,
like a sweet fire, small and alone.
No one will ask them about their fashion sense,
or their long lunches at the faculty club.
No one will want to know about their absurd
attempts to discover "the meaning of it all."
No one will care about or even understand
their economic outlook for
"the current recession."
They will not be questioned on
Greek mythology,
nor their new age remedy for
feelings of alienation.
They'll be asked nothing about their
post-modernist justifications for apathy,
concocted as self-serving lies.
On that day the simple folk will come.
Those who had no place in the
papers, books and poems of
the apolitical intellectuals,
but who produced their
food and clothes, built
their homes and cars,
who cleaned their
offices, raised their children, and cooked
their meals,
and they'll ask:
"What did you do when the poor
suffered, when tenderness and
life burned out in them?"
Apolitical intellectuals,
you will not be able answer.
A vulture of silence
will eat at your guts.
Your own misery
will pick at your soul.
And you will be mute
in your shame.
APOLITICAL INTELLECTUALS

One day
the apolitical
intellectuals
of my country
will be interrogated
by the simplest
of our people.

They will be asked
what they did
when their nation died out
slowly,
like a sweet fire
small and alone.

No one will ask them
about their dress,
their long siestas
after lunch,
no one will want to know
about their sterile combats
with »the idea
of the nothing«
no one will care about
their higher financial learning.

They won't be questioned
on Greek mythology,
or regarding their self-disgust
when someone within them
begins to die
the coward's death.

They'll be asked nothing
about their absurd
justifications,
born in the shadow
of the total lie.

On that day
the simple men will come.

Those who had no place
in the books and poems
of the apolitical intellectuals,
but daily delivered
their bread and milk,
their tortillas and eggs,
those who drove their cars,
who cared for their dogs and gardens
and worked for them,
and they'll ask:

"What did you do when the poor
suffered, when tenderness
and life
burned out of them?"

Apolitical intellectuals
of my sweet country,
you will not be able to answer.

A vulture of silence
will eat your gut.

Your own misery
will pick at your soul.

And you will be mute in your shame.


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