How I detest the fatal final curtain! I never find life dull or wearying. Iíve got no time for any time or season When I donít have a cheerful song to sing. Iíve got no time for cynicism cold, nor Can I be fooled by hankerings for the Grail. I hate when people peer over my shoulder And crane their necks to try to read my mail. I canít stand those whose actions are half-hearted, Or who interrupt a cordial exchange; Or shoot you in the back, an easy target, Or pull a gun on you at point-blank range. I canít stand idle talk in any vein, The worms of doubt, the needles of false praise, Or things that are meant to go against the grain And grate your nerves like metal scraped on glass. I donít like self-assured complacency. Youíre better off being hanged and letting rip. I donít like those who forget all decency And give an eager ear to slanderous gossip I donít feel sympathy for damaged limbs Or broken wings - lame ducks I canít abide. I donít like bullies or acquiescent victims Yet pity moves me for Christ crucified. I hate it when Iíve played the cowardís part. I hate to see the guiltless victimized. I hate when people pry into my heart, The more so when itís spat on and despised. I canít abide the stadium or ring Where all is vilely cheapened and defied. Whatever alterations time may bring To these I know I wont be reconciled.
© Kathryn Hamilton. Translation, 1987