Any number of times I read of some atrocity here or in the wider world and say to myself or exclaim in horror: “No, this is the worst. This freezes the blood forever!” And then I read Aleksander Wat’s poem and see that it will not have an end, mankind will always be capable of worse.
From Persian Parables
By great, swift waters
on a stony bank
a human skull lay shouting:
Allah la ilah.
And in that shout such horror
and such supplication
so great was its despair
that I asked the helmsman:
What is there left to cry for? Why it is still afraid?
What divine judgement could strike it again?
Suddenly a rising wave
took hold of the skull
and tossing it about
smashed it against the bank.
Nothing is ever over
-the helmsman’s voice was hollow-
And there is no bottom to evil.
Or I read about the latest bombing or shooting in
whatever country, out of many, in whatever “good”
cause, and read Brendan Kennelly’s poem written in
the time of the Troubles in Northern Ireland.
NAILS
The black van exploded
Fifty yards from the hotel entrance.
Two men, one back-haired, the other red,
Had parked it there as though for a few moments
While they walked around the corner
Not noticing, it seemed, the children
In single file behind their perky leader,
And certainly not seeing the van
Explode into the children’s bodies.
Nails, nine inches long, lodged
In chest, ankle, thigh, buttock, shoulder, face.
The quickly-gathered crowd was outraged and
shocked.
Some children whole, others bits and pieces.
These blasted crucifixions are commonplace.
