A reluctant Sayonara


A reluctant Sayonara

« She must suffer to her last breath. (…) They’ll all soon be as Dead as 0-Ren Ishii. »
« That woman deserves her Revenge. And we deserve to die. »
                                                                   From « Kill Bill Vol. 1 »

   for my long-suffering and poetry-loving doctor sister: Thadshayani

 
                I

Two French girls in Paris
       one aged thirteen
       the other fourteen
together take wing.

The police bring them back home.

Then hand-in-hand they jump
    from their seventeenth floor flat.

They leave behind a note :
    « This life has nothing to offer.
       What are we living for ? »

An Austrian socialist philosopher-journalist in Paris
     in perfect physical health
lies down beside his terminally ailing English wife
     never to wake again together
after bequeathing their papers and wealth
          not to the Socialist Party
          but to a Catholic charity.

He leaves behind a long love letter
his very last remember-me book.

 Till death does not do us part. 

A Stateless poet passes through Paris
     with his putative Spanish spouse
             and infant boy.
Paris casts a covetous eye on the mother.
She plans the poet’s murder
                  and maims her son for life.

The People’s protectors pressgang her
       and daily pound the poet to pulp.

Vive ! la France ! Viva ! la Francia !

                        II

A lone coyote trumpets over the sakura strewn snow
A moanful flute tugs at nostalgic heartstrings
    Meiko Kaji comes on with her plaintive lilt :

                                       Urami yibushi
We’ve not long to go in this void

The still frozen air gasps through swishing slices
      spurting Strüwel-Peter blood and bones
  cherry blossoms on the snow-clad parapet
  struck down by the lethally-chilled sheen
of the Hattori Hanzo steel

To kill there need be no will
The will to kill resides in the sill
   of the vengeful white of the eye

III

Even if we can’t stand it any longer, Lady
We’d rather not leave just yet in a hurry
Would we see the likes of this world again
Ever know what’s better than this domain

Unknown to us the slow melodious dirge
Tugs at us : stay yet a while, it whispers !

Who knows who’d be there to receive us
Yes, yes, stay yet a while, little lady !

Hum a sentimental ditty
     Recall even a fated memory
        Revive some moments of levity :
A friend a face an outing
   A little tenderness
       A tiny moment of harmony
Together in this wilderness

© T. Wignesan – Paris November 14 2007 (Rev. 2012)

From: T. Wignesan
Copyright ©:  T. Wignesan – Paris November 14, 2007 (Rev. 2012)

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