Sunday, October 19, 2014

LA MUERTE NUESTRA DE CADA DIA




"Majestuosamente pobre / el léxico / en boca sangrante // A los caídos / los levantamos / los cubrimos / con el paño de lágrimas // nos rebelamos / contra los tiradores en el campo / por todoeluniverso // Patriambrientos // La muerte nuestra de cada día / la enterramos en la palabra / resurrección"


Rose Ausländer (traducción de Teresa Ruiz Rosas y José Ruiz Rosas en el libro “Mi aliento se llama ahora”).

(Fotografía de Heinrich Himmler con su familia)



La esclavitud y la servidumbre no han producido ninguna flor de aroma dulce anualmente, para animar los sentidos del hombre, porque no tienen vida real: son meramente un decaimiento y una muerte, ofensivas a todos los orificios nasales sanos. No nos oponemos a que ellas vivan, sino a que no sean enterrradas. Permitamos que los vivos las entierren. Incluso ellas son buenas como abono.

HDT (Esclavitud en Massachusetts)


"(...) dentro de 50 años, si existe aún una civilización europea (¡quién lo puede saber!)"

Hans- Georg Gadamer




"Much has been said about American slavery, but I think that we do not even yet realize what slavery is. If I were seriously to propose to Congress to make mankind into sausages, I have no doubt that most of the members would smile at my proposition, and if any believed me to be in earnest, they would think that I proposed something much worse than Congress had ever done. But if any of them will tell me that to make a man into a sausage would be much worse — would be any worse — than to make him into a slave — than it was to enact the Fugitive Slave Law, I will accuse him of foolishness, of intellectual incapacity, of making a distinction without a difference. The one is just as sensible a proposition as the other.

(…)

The foul slime stands for the sloth and vice of man, the decay of humanity; the fragrant flower that springs from it, for the purity and courage which are immortal. 

Slavery and servility have produced no sweet-scented flower annually, to charm the senses of men, for they have no real life: they are merely a decaying and a death, offensive to all healthy nostrils. We do not complain that they live, but that they do not get buried. Let the living bury them: even they are good for manure."



Slavery in Massachusetts
 
by Henry David Thoreau




ThoreauTransforms His Journal into “Slavery in Massachusetts”





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