(translated by Olena Jennings)
“That emptied out coconut
that they threw away, is quite similar
to a head, blind, which lies
detached from the body...”
Saint-John Perse
In one ancient well-known executioner’s family
The work of executing was passed on from generation to generation
So, with time it was the turn of the executioner's small son to learn this trade
But the small son really feared blood didn’t even run to play war with the neighborhood warriors who were so
anxious to shoot one another with red paint
Instead, everyday the father brought the boy large round coconuts by the tens about the size of a person’s head
The boy nervously drank the liquid from them, closing his eyes, and then he threw the empty coconuts into a pile
So it was that the neighborhood girls peered curiously through the windows, thirstily licking their lips at the sight
Maybe the executioner’s son would rather play with them?
But everytime before drinking he dug out a proper hole in the coconut and shoved in handfuls of cherries to color
the liquid
Because he didn’t drink the liquid of the coconuts just for pleasure
And definitely not to fill himself with the delicious contents
The executioner’s son drank from the coconut heads so that he could do away with his fear of blood
So that he could transform himself into someone who possessed an executioner’s lack of pity
They say that later he went crazy
He went from house to house and threw cracked-open unemptied coconuts on people’s doorsteps
And waited until the liquid from them spilled beneath his feet
And then he fell to his knees, and so in this way he did not saw off a single head
and refused to shed a single drop of sweet blood with three well recited
“Our Fathers”
“That emptied out coconut
that they threw away, is quite similar
to a head, blind, which lies
detached from the body...”
Saint-John Perse
In one ancient well-known executioner’s family
The work of executing was passed on from generation to generation
So, with time it was the turn of the executioner's small son to learn this trade
But the small son really feared blood didn’t even run to play war with the neighborhood warriors who were so
anxious to shoot one another with red paint
Instead, everyday the father brought the boy large round coconuts by the tens about the size of a person’s head
The boy nervously drank the liquid from them, closing his eyes, and then he threw the empty coconuts into a pile
So it was that the neighborhood girls peered curiously through the windows, thirstily licking their lips at the sight
Maybe the executioner’s son would rather play with them?
But everytime before drinking he dug out a proper hole in the coconut and shoved in handfuls of cherries to color
the liquid
Because he didn’t drink the liquid of the coconuts just for pleasure
And definitely not to fill himself with the delicious contents
The executioner’s son drank from the coconut heads so that he could do away with his fear of blood
So that he could transform himself into someone who possessed an executioner’s lack of pity
They say that later he went crazy
He went from house to house and threw cracked-open unemptied coconuts on people’s doorsteps
And waited until the liquid from them spilled beneath his feet
And then he fell to his knees, and so in this way he did not saw off a single head
and refused to shed a single drop of sweet blood with three well recited
“Our Fathers”
