Dingo the Dissident

THE BLOG OF DISQUIET : Qweir Notions in the Armpit of Diogenes by DINGO the DISSIDENT binge-thinker since February 2008.
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Friday, 20 October 2017

A new translation/adaptation of

THE BEGGARS
by
Rainer Maria Rilke

That heap looks like mere rubbish,
but get close and you can tell
that it's a pile of beggars.
If only they could sell
the emptiness of their pleading hands
like bogus shares.

Encouraged by his fascinated stares
they show the gawker
the festering black markets of their mouths.
They let him, with no inhibitions
(and quite affordably)
examine their skin conditions.

His face distorts, melts like moonlit
plastic before their decomposing eyes.
Thinking of the latest fatalities,
they rejoice at his discomfort,
and as he stammers his banalities
they dribble, spew and spit.

Anthony Weir

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