Esta historia es la triste historia
del arquetipo de un ser servil,
dueño de su ropaje mas no de su mente.
Un bípedo vil y obediente
que enfermó de poder,
a pesar de su padecer,
pero lloró como un demente
pues no podía ser valiente
con un súbdito en la piel.
Entonces le creció un colmillo feroz,
le salieron garras en cada extremidad
y con ellas cavó en la tierra una guarida.
Por fin la fiera en él nacía.
Su hambre llegó a ser voraz,
su crueldad no tuvo parangón
y su cerebro fue una barriga,
tumba de toda fantasía,
cárcel de la imaginación.
Al cabo de tres años de preparación
decidió cumplir su mayor aspiración,
atacar la morada del regente,
un hombre vivaz y elocuente.
Alistó su batallón,
limpió la boca del cañón
y ordenó fuego a la tropa
mientras sacó lustre a la bota
que iba a vestir de dictador.
Y a partir de ese momento
nadie pudo salvar a ese hombre
de bajar a la gruta del animal,
donde finalmente terminó
siendo igual que su antepasado.
del arquetipo de un ser servil,
dueño de su ropaje mas no de su mente.
Un bípedo vil y obediente
que enfermó de poder,
a pesar de su padecer,
pero lloró como un demente
pues no podía ser valiente
con un súbdito en la piel.
Entonces le creció un colmillo feroz,
le salieron garras en cada extremidad
y con ellas cavó en la tierra una guarida.
Por fin la fiera en él nacía.
Su hambre llegó a ser voraz,
su crueldad no tuvo parangón
y su cerebro fue una barriga,
tumba de toda fantasía,
cárcel de la imaginación.
Al cabo de tres años de preparación
decidió cumplir su mayor aspiración,
atacar la morada del regente,
un hombre vivaz y elocuente.
Alistó su batallón,
limpió la boca del cañón
y ordenó fuego a la tropa
mientras sacó lustre a la bota
que iba a vestir de dictador.
Y a partir de ese momento
nadie pudo salvar a ese hombre
de bajar a la gruta del animal,
donde finalmente terminó
siendo igual que su antepasado.
inviata da Dq82 - 8/11/2017 - 09:45
Lingua: Inglese
Traduzione inglese da cantoscautivos.org
I wrote this song shortly after reading Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, one of the books that circulated in Camp Melinka from hand to hand and cabin to cabin. I presume I don’t have to explain who is one experiencing the metamorphosis here. Due to security considerations, these verses were only sung in a low voice and before a select audience of political prisoners. Today they are part of my record Documento (1986), that I produced upon completing ten years in exile in Germany, which compiles the 27 songs that were born from my prison experience.
I wrote this song shortly after reading Franz Kafka’s The Metamorphosis, one of the books that circulated in Camp Melinka from hand to hand and cabin to cabin. I presume I don’t have to explain who is one experiencing the metamorphosis here. Due to security considerations, these verses were only sung in a low voice and before a select audience of political prisoners. Today they are part of my record Documento (1986), that I produced upon completing ten years in exile in Germany, which compiles the 27 songs that were born from my prison experience.
THE MAN WHO TRANSFORMED INTO AN ANIMAL
This is the sad story
of the example of a servile being
owner of his garments but not his mind.
A despicable, obedient biped
who sickened from power,
despite his suffering
but sobbed like a madman
because he couldn’t be brave
living in a subjugated skin.
Then he grew a fierce fang,
claws grew out of each limb
and with them he dug a lair in the dirt.
Finally the beast in him was born.
His hunger became so voracious
His cruelty knew no bounds
And his brain was a stomach
a tomb for all imagination.
After three years of training
He decided to fulfill his greatest aspiration,
Attack the home of the regent
who was a sharp and eloquent man.
He made ready the battalion
Cleaned the cannon (mouth of)
and ordered the troops to fire
while he shined the boot
that he would wear as dictator.
And as of that moment
No one could save that man
from going down into the animal’s den
where he ended up
just like his ancestor.
This is the sad story
of the example of a servile being
owner of his garments but not his mind.
A despicable, obedient biped
who sickened from power,
despite his suffering
but sobbed like a madman
because he couldn’t be brave
living in a subjugated skin.
Then he grew a fierce fang,
claws grew out of each limb
and with them he dug a lair in the dirt.
Finally the beast in him was born.
His hunger became so voracious
His cruelty knew no bounds
And his brain was a stomach
a tomb for all imagination.
After three years of training
He decided to fulfill his greatest aspiration,
Attack the home of the regent
who was a sharp and eloquent man.
He made ready the battalion
Cleaned the cannon (mouth of)
and ordered the troops to fire
while he shined the boot
that he would wear as dictator.
And as of that moment
No one could save that man
from going down into the animal’s den
where he ended up
just like his ancestor.
inviata da Dq82 - 8/11/2017 - 09:53
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Documento
Compuse esta canción poco después de haber leído La metamorfosis de Franz Kafka, que era uno de esos libros que circulaban por el Campo de Melinka de mano en mano y de cabaña en cabaña. Me imagino que no necesito decir quién es el metamorfoseado del cual aquí se habla. Por razones de seguridad estos versos sólo se cantaron en voz baja y ante un público selecto de presos políticos. Hoy forman parte mi disco Documento (1986), que grabé al cumplirse diez años de mi exilio en Alemania y que compila las 27 canciones que nacieron de mi experiencia como prisionero.
cantoscautivos.cl
Ispirato dal libro la Metamorfosi di Kafka, uno dei pochi libri che giravano nel campo di concentramento di Melinka, fu scritta questa canzone per Augusto Pinochet.