|
The Dog
Ivan Turgenev
Us two in the room; my dog and me.... Outside a fearful storm is howling.
The dog sits in front of me, and looks me straight in the face.
And I, too, look into his face.
He wants, it seems, to tell me something. He is dumb, he is without words,
he does not understand himself -- but I understand him.
I understand that at this instant there is living in him and in me the same
feeling, that there is no difference between us. We are the same; in each of us
there burns and shines the same trembling spark.
Death sweeps down, with a wave of its chill broad wing....
And the end!
Who then can discern what was the spark that glowed in each of us?
No! We are not beast and man that glance at one another....
They are the eyes of equals, those eyes riveted on one another.
And in each of these, in the beast and in the man, the same life huddles
up in fear close to the other.
|
If These Words Were Heard
If these words were heard,
Then animals dashing uninhibited might not be shot for fees
With the nonsense that we make up
Like that it’s a light game, and the howls of anguish sound funny.
If these words were heard,
Then cousins of this innocent dog might not die nightly in laboratories
So that humans have face make-up
Whilst Snotty Pharmaceutical Bosses Inc. get even more con money.
Then these words
Send a question to Mankind
That if he were born a dog
Or insect, even
Then would he see himself as them, an insignificant cull?
We need to heed it
Before it is hours late
The deed to plead it
Before it is our fate
To be ashamed at the deaths of our damned teammates.
Whilst we, enmeshed in meanness, cannot then halt the desire for status
And a damn strong denial involved in the hate that ate us.
No more than a warning.
|
