Now that my son and literary heir needs a humbler me to be able to prepare for his next failure sitting of his graduation exam, I guess that I will have to put away my talent’s regalia and quietly write ‘Whispers’, a play in verse for a musical no one will compose, but I will have set the beginning of a more general trend towards the composition of musicals.
Here is the sentence of today (a transformed sentence of yesterday) in verse:
A war is waging, waging, waging,
somewhere on the patch-work earth
A woman peasant’s climbing, climbing,
job ladders to see all the world
The war is seen, the war is given
Some profit with retribute mirth
The peasant woman is directing
from top positions war and earth
Low, low, in the pits of countries done,
the pyramids of starving and fattening are built
Low, low, under bombs, the starvers’ gross income,
drops bombs as if disguised as fortune’s hellish yield
V.P.T. 29.09.2009
V.P.Toucheva 29.09.2009 Sofia, Bulgaria, EU
