A History Lesson

 

Kings

like golden gleams

made with a mirror on the wall.

A non-alcoholic pope,

knights without arms,

arms without knights.

The dead like so many strained noodles,

a pound of those fallen in battle,

two ounces of those who were executed,

several heads

like so many potatoes

shaken into a cap

Geniuses conceived

by the mating of dates

are soaked up by the ceiling into infinity

to the sound of tinny thunder,

the rumble of bellies,

shouts of hurrah,

empires rise and fall

at the wave of a pointer,

the blood is blotted out

And only one small boy,

who was not paying the least attention,

will ask

between two victorious wars:

And did it hurt in those days too?

 

— Miroslav Holub

(translated by George Theiner)