|
Goya's Third of May, 1808
The Lord’s our shepherd, so they say.
But does he herd us for the fleece,
Or, rendered happy and obese,
We’re doomed upon the feasting-day?
Such blasphemy we mustn’t imply!
Still, public stomachs make demands.
Perhaps His bishops, round and sly,
May surreptitiously supply
Hell’s bottomless shawarma stands?
No. Neighbors from their pastures stray;
A flock no more, but brutal gangs
Advance, to horror and dismay,
All clad in predatory gray
With rifles tipped with metal fangs.
Alas, tonight is not your night.
Your horns provide a poor reprieve.
You cannot win, though try you might.
Professionals; they live to fight,
And fight to eat, and eat to live.
Arranged and crucified by fear,
You finally beseech your God:
"My shepherd, help!" He does not hear.
Perhaps he's busy nursing beer.
You stand before the firing squad.
As curtains fall, you feel within
The nagging of a dull regret.
If you could once again begin,
Don wolfen shako, wolfen skin,
And hold a wolfish bayonet...
Come hurry, mutton does not keep,
So scrape those bodies from the wall,
A feast of sheep, by sheep, for sheep,
A doner party, food for all.
|
|
|
Belgium6775 Posts
|
sorry dude but i dont think your poem quite matches up to the painting in terms of artistic quality but gooood try 
|
On May 13 2008 08:03 HamerD wrote:sorry dude but i dont think your poem quite matches up to the painting in terms of artistic quality but gooood try
Its a bit obvious the poetry won't match up with the painting considering it is one Spain's greatest artists.
|
Alas, tonight is not your night.
Your horns provide a poor reprieve.
You cannot win, though try you might.
Professionals; they live to fight,
And fight to eat, and eat to live.
this is my favourite stanza
rhyming reprieve with live is reminiscent of siegfried sassoon (i think) in that poem where he rhymes silent with salient to convey unease and despair. I also like how that ties in with the urgency of the soldiers, desperate to earn a living through any deplorable means possible; as if the stanza is so desperate to rhyme it accepts the half rhyme willingly.
Btw yeah this painting is seriously seriously emotional and amazing so dont take offense at my previous comment.
|
Heh, no offense taken. Goya's one of the greatest artists of all time, and that happens to be my favorite painting of his. Of course there's no way that poem (or anything else I'll scribble in my lifetime) can come near.
|
Come hurry, mutton does not keep,
So scrape those bodies from the wall,
A feast of sheep prepared by sheep,
A doner party, food for all.
damn i really liked that
you're pretty talented, whats the name of how it is written?
|
|
|
|
|
|
EPT![[image loading]](http://homepage.mac.com/dmhart/WarArt/Goya/3rdMay1808.JPG)
![[image loading]](http://www.sai.msu.su/wm/paint/auth/goya/goya.colossus.jpg)
