With apologies to Freud, three poems, none too serious.
Que Freud puisse accepter mes excuses pour ces trois poèmes petits et légers.
I
The playground is quiet,
I can read in the sun.
The children embalmed in day care,
Told when to hush, told when to run
Tranquille le terrain de jeu,
Le bétail à la garderie.
“On se tait !” “Vas-y, coure !”
Lire au soleil je peux
II
Avant que les cultures
les obsessions ont développées,
La vulve, le vagin et le pénis
étaient déjà sexualisés
par un usage répété.
Before our cultures this or that
obsession boldly juiced
The penis, vulva and vagina
were sexualized already
by repeated use.
III
In the bush, on our haunches we sat perfectly content,
But now—urbane?—our legs (are waxed and) cross.
Education’s responsible 4 this,
And, it could be, having toilets on which to piss.
Dans la brousse nous nous accroupissions contents,
Maintenant nos jambes (cirées) sont aussi bien croisées
Que les chevaliers chrétiens, les feux, les mots et les gilets,
Et nos enfants, toujours obligés à bien pisser.
— Text and Drawings by William Eaton
Sigmund Freud, Die Traumdeutung
(The Interpretation of Dreams; L’Interprétation du rêve)
- . . . civilization—the age-long progress of repression in the emotional life of humanity
- . . . la civilisation – le progrès éternel de la répression dans la vie émotionnelle de l’humanité
Thanks, Bill. Hope you’re doing well this week. We are grieving the loss of Steve Schewel’s mother last week, right in the middle of his mayoral campaign. What could be worse?
On Tue, Oct 3, 2017 at 11:21 PM, montaigbakhtinian wrote:
> William Eaton posted: “With apologies to Freud, three poems, none too > serious. Que Freud puisse accepter mes excuses pour ces trois poèmes petits > et légers. I The playground is quiet I can read in the sun The children > confined to day care Told when to hush an” >
Yes, Carol, sorry to hear about Steve’s mother, though, as I wrote him, it sounds as if she lived a long and productive life! We hope for the same? Best, Bill