Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Luís Quintais

FOR ANIMALS

            For animals eternal Treblinka



The memory I’ve been given is rife with martyrdom.
    Mother took me by the hand. We had reached the sacrificial perimeter. The
sound of chickens facing the end. Their innocent clucking. The hushed violence of
exposed carcasses. Guts, the stench of screaming guts. Fury and sound collapsed into rottenness. There were stands within the
perimeter calling for truth and commerce. The plump, flayed meats lightly swayed,
hanging from large metal hooks. Soaked feathers littered the ground. A decapitated
chicken embraced the world. Narrow furrows inside the perimeter carried off the blood
to a place I imagined to be far away, as far as a faraway country.
    The guttural agony subsided. People were drawing their drapes for the peaceful
midday meal.

For Animals

For Animals

            For animals eternal Treblinka



Está repleta de martírio a memória que me deram.
    A mãe levava-me pela mão. O perímetro sacrificial era já ali. O som das aves
antecipando o fim, os gorjeios inocentes, a emudecida violência das carcaças expostas,
as vísceras, o fedor das vísceras gritando. Fúria e som esgotavam-se em podridões. Em
certos ângulos do perímetro bancas clamavam verdade e comércio. Copiosas, as carnes
esfoladas surgiam suspensas em metálicos ganchos. Penas e plumas encharcadas
pejavam o chão. Uma ave decapitada abraçava o mundo. Em certos pontos do perímetro
estreitos canais expulsavam o sangue para um sítio que me pareceu distante, tão distante
quanto um país distante.
    A gutural agonia apagava-se. Fechavam-se as cortinas para a tranquila refeição
do meio-dia.
Close

FOR ANIMALS

            For animals eternal Treblinka



The memory I’ve been given is rife with martyrdom.
    Mother took me by the hand. We had reached the sacrificial perimeter. The
sound of chickens facing the end. Their innocent clucking. The hushed violence of
exposed carcasses. Guts, the stench of screaming guts. Fury and sound collapsed into rottenness. There were stands within the
perimeter calling for truth and commerce. The plump, flayed meats lightly swayed,
hanging from large metal hooks. Soaked feathers littered the ground. A decapitated
chicken embraced the world. Narrow furrows inside the perimeter carried off the blood
to a place I imagined to be far away, as far as a faraway country.
    The guttural agony subsided. People were drawing their drapes for the peaceful
midday meal.

FOR ANIMALS

            For animals eternal Treblinka



The memory I’ve been given is rife with martyrdom.
    Mother took me by the hand. We had reached the sacrificial perimeter. The
sound of chickens facing the end. Their innocent clucking. The hushed violence of
exposed carcasses. Guts, the stench of screaming guts. Fury and sound collapsed into rottenness. There were stands within the
perimeter calling for truth and commerce. The plump, flayed meats lightly swayed,
hanging from large metal hooks. Soaked feathers littered the ground. A decapitated
chicken embraced the world. Narrow furrows inside the perimeter carried off the blood
to a place I imagined to be far away, as far as a faraway country.
    The guttural agony subsided. People were drawing their drapes for the peaceful
midday meal.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère