dog

  • lawrence ferlinghetti'nin bir köpeğin gözüyle insan yaşamını gözlemlediği şiiri.

    ''the dog trots freely in the street
    and sees reality
    and the things he sees
    are bigger than himself
    and the things he sees
    are his reality
    drunks in doorways
    moons on trees
    the dog trots freely thru the street
    and the things he sees
    are smaller than himself
    fish on newsprint
    ants in holes
    chickens in chinatown windows
    their heads a block away
    the dog trots freely in the street
    and the things he smells
    smell something like himself
    the dog trots freely in the street
    past puddles and babies
    cats and cigars
    poolrooms and policemen
    he doesn't hate cops
    he merely has no use for them
    and he goes past them
    and past the dead cows hung up whole
    in front of the san francisco meat market
    he would rather eat a tender cow
    than a tough policeman
    though either might do
    and he goes past the romeo ravioli factory
    and past coit's tower
    and past congressman doyle
    he's afraid of coit's tower
    but he's not afraid of congressman doyle
    although what he hears is very discouraging
    very depressing
    very absurd
    to a sad young dog like himself
    to a serious dog like himself
    but he has his own free world to live in
    his own fleas to eat
    he will not be muzzled
    congressman doyle is just another
    fire hydrant
    to him
    the dog trots freely in the street
    and has his own dog's life to live
    and to think about
    and to reflect upon
    touching and tasting and testing everything
    investigating everything
    without benefit of perjury
    a real realist
    with a real tale to tell
    and a real tail to tell it with
    a real live
    barking
    democratic dog
    engaged in real
    free enterprise
    with something to say
    about ontology
    something to say
    about reality
    and how to see it
    and how to hear it
    with his head cocked sideways
    at streetcorners
    as if he is just about to have
    his picture taken
    for victor records
    listening for
    his master's voice
    and looking
    like a living questionmark
    into the
    great gramaphone
    of puzzling existence
    with its wondrous hollow horn
    which always seems
    just about to spout forth
    some victorious answer
    to everything''

    kaynak: poetry foundaiton, "dog" from a coney ısland of the mind: poem, 1958