Marilyn tanzt

Alle Gedichte in dieser Sendung handeln von Frauen und auch die Musik ist ausschließlich weiblich, nämlich von Emily Wells, die nicht nur singt, sondern auch alle Instrumente selber einspielt. Playlist: Emily Wells: Mama‘s Gonna Give You Love Martin Auer: Ich bin eine Nixe, sagt sie Emily Wells: Come to Me Martin Auer: Marilyn tanzt Emily Wells: Don‘t Use Me Up Martin Auer: Sie geht nicht mehr vor die Tür Emily Wells: Dirty Sneakers Martin Auer: Poem about a Dirty Light Switch Emily Wells: Los Angeles Martin Auer: Sheeba will be There Emily Wells: Let Your Guard Down Martin Auer: Gute Zeit Emily Wells: View From a Blind Eye Martin Auer: Geh schlafen, Anna-Marie Emily Wells: Passenger Hier die Texte der englischen Gedichte zum Nachlesen: Poem about a dirty light switch in Delhi National Museum Then who would want to write a poem about a dirty light switch? I’d rather do one About a girl in a teddybear hat. Beauty can be found everywhere, so they say, okay, so why not in a dirty light switch? And who says that a poem has to be about beauty? You see, I met this girl in a teddybear hat and she wants to go to Africa to work with refugee children. She took me to the museum but the only thing I was allowed to photograph there, was this dirty light switch. I would rather have taken the picture of the delicate painting of Tagore’s old mother, but they wouldn’t let me because, of course they have postcards and booklets to sell, so I had to take one of the light switch instead. And in fact, I am not displeased with that bargain. The light switch, I think, has all the qualities of a work of art, it is full of surprises and mysteries. There are broken symmetries to be found and variations of regularity and the more I look at it the clearer it gets that in fact it is the relic of an ancient civilisation, fraught with history and fate and human desires and all that stuff. Why, they must have been craving for light at that time but they conquered the darkness using this heroic piece of electric equipment thousands and thousands of times with weary fingers soiling it and painting it over a hundred times, fighting the gnawing teeth of decay. If the museum people knew what they have there, they would have a thousand postcards and booklets made and would set up a guard beside that light switch to keep people from taking pictures of it. So in fact I am quite content after all with my photograph of the light switch and with my poem. But I still wish it was about that girl in the teddybear hat. This poem is entitled: Poem about the girl in the teddybear hat whom I met in Delhi and who wants to go to Africa to work with refugee children and whom I met again when she attended a course at the Peace University in Schlaining, Austria 1. When the armies have left, when the land lies panting and bleeding and quietly weeping, Sheeba will be there. Sheeba will be there, she’ll arrive in a jeep, in a truck, in an airplane she will drive through the deserts and over the mountains. Sheeba will be there. Sheeba will be there to pick up the wounded to feed the hungry to console the children, the terrified children. When the armies have plundered the fields and the shops and the pharmacies Sheeba will be there. Sheeba will be there to bring the rice, to bring the water, to bring the penicillin. When the rightful government will have been installed when the enemies of freedom will have been chased away Sheeba will be there. Sheeba will be there to take the child soldiers by the hand and give them a football and teach them to weep when the ball hits their nose. When the mining companies have their contracts renewed, when the pipelines are safe again, when the rebels have been chased away from the oilfields Sheeba will be there. Sheeba will be there to talk softly to the women dishonoured by rape, to gently lead them away from their husbands and brothers and fathers to quietly take the suicide rope from their hands. Sheeba will be there Gentle, earnest, soft spoken Sheeba with her long black Kerala hair with her soft brown Kerala skin with her thick black Kerala brows with her deep brown Kerala eyes. When greed and stupidity have left nothing behind but barren earth Sheeba will be there. Sheeba will be there to teach the survivors not to think of revenge but to dig wells. Sheeba will be there to teach the injured, the wounded, the crippled, the exiled, the dispossessed, that there can be no justice only mercy. Sheeba will be there. 2. SO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GO ON WITH YOUR STUPID WAYS? With your stupid wars, with your stupid hatred, with your stupid bombings? Because Sheeba will be there to clean up the mess after you? Gentle, honest, lovely Sheeba? Leave it all to Sheeba? 3. There will come a day – Oh yes, you have heard that phrase before and it doesn’t touch you at all. The prophets of old have hurled their curses at you: There will come a day – From the beginning of civilisation you’ve heard it when first you began to use riches to amass more riches to use power to amass more power. There will come a day – They wished fiery rain upon your heads, they implored their gods to smite you with lightning they threatened you with the wrath of the masses. There will come a day – and you are still there. There will come a day – There will come a day when the children will come to greet Sheeba and they will pass you by and not look at you. 4. Now shrug that off.