It's Oscars time. Somebody wake the Grouch.

Thursday, February 02, 2006

At Last, the Noblest Poet Translated

Those of you familiar with the poetry of my homeland country are no doubt familiar with the one we call Noblest Poet, that is the national hero of my country, Feosucio Gordito (1785-1865), who wrote so many beautiful poems that make the childrens to run screaming to mommy for comfort from the crumbling foundations of emotional well-being. Well, at last, I have translated some of these previously untranslated goldenest jewels of the language of Mankind, and here present to you the two sacredest poems of Feosucio Gordito.

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The Agonizing Discovery of Disillusionment

Upon the broken stones of a thousand centuries,
the thick limbed water dwarf flings his pasty torso,
yellowish nails savaging the softest wet stones,
for he digs into the very heart of life to find the prize,
There it sits, before his eyes, beneath his thighs,
the prize, a goodly size, a bag of moldering fries, yes,
fries, the prize, golden delicious to his gushing pink eyes,
Hiss goes the Devito, hiss forever, as he eats the rotting food.
Life has disappointed every single human being once again.

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The Best You Have to Offer is Not Good Enough

A mewling brown form thrashes in the canyon of the Cosmos' hope,
Its silkeny skin melting as the rain falls like boiling wax,
For every vain dream is dissolved by the falling waters of reality,
And every tender skin peels back to reveal a bloated sack of man,
A blubber-legged fading actor with sacred words on his disgorging tongue,
the frustrated moon cries out the name, Devito, Devito, Devito,
and every single sacred stone crumbles in the eggish sea. Sea. See.

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Oh, my dearest damp goodness, I got a tear in the, how you going to say, eye. I must go wipe it away with papel hygenico. Bye.

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