Poem In Three Languages In Support Of Supreme Court Challenge By Joan Collins T.D. To Bank Bailout

Joan Collins T.D. today began a Supreme Court challenge to the promisory note which was the means via which billions of Euro of Irish taxpayers's money was handed to the bankrupt Irish banks.

No vote was ever taken in the Dáil (Irish parliament) on the issuing of the promisory note, by the far the biggest financial decision ever taken by any Irish government.

I wish Joan well with her challenge.

Below, in three different languages, is my poem 'Austerity Mantra' which as well as being published here in Ireland has also appeared in translation in journals in both Greece and Italy.

Austerity Mantra

Everything must be on the table.

Your ninety seven year old granny

is no longer cost effective, would

benefit greatly from being brought face to face

with a compassionate baseball bat.

The figures speak for themselves and will

be worse by morning. The paraplegic

in his insanely expensive wheelchair

will have to crawl as God intended.

Here are the figures that won’t stop

speaking for themselves, this is the table

everything must be on. Yesterday my name was

Temporary Fiscal Adjustment.

Tonight, the insect in the radio calls me

The Inevitable. When the economist

puts his hand up, take care not to cough.

Everything’s on the table and

the table’s tiny. I’d send you a pillow

to hold hard over the child’s face

‘til the kicking stops, but at current rates

there’ll be no pillow. I am the unthinkable

but you will think me. Pack her mouth

with tea towels, hold down firmly

your old mildewed raincoat,

‘til there’s no more breath.

Tomorrow I’ll be known as

Four Year Consolidation Package.

Lock the cat in the oven and bake

at two hundred degrees centigrade.

Tie your last plastic bag over

your own head. The figures speak for themselves

and there is no table.

Greek translation

Το Μάντρα της Λιτότητας

ΜΕΤΑΦΡΑΣΗ: ΛΙΝΑ ΣΙΠΙΤΑΝΟΥ

Όλα πρέπει να μπουν στο τραπέζι
η ενενηνταεπτάχρονη γιαγιά σου
δεν είναι πλέον οικονομικά αποδοτική,
θα είχε όφελος αν την έφερναν καταπρόσωπο
με κανένα πονόψυχο μπαστούνι του μπέιζμπολ.
Τα νούμερα μιλάνε μόνα τους και θα ‘χουν
χειροτερεύσει ως το πρωί. Ο παραπληγικός
στην  εξωφρενικά ακριβή αναπηρική του καρέκλα
αναγκαστικά θα έρπει, όπως το θέλησε ο Θεός.
Ορίστε τα νούμερα που δεν σταματούν
να μιλάνε μόνα τους, αυτό είναι το τραπέζι
που πάνω θα τα βάλουμε όλα. Χθες το όνομά μου ήταν
Προσωρινή Φορολογική Προσαρμογή.

Σήμερα, το έντομο στο ραδιόφωνο με αποκαλεί
το Αναπόφευκτο. Όταν ο οικονομολόγος
σηκώνει το χέρι, πρόσεξε μην βήξεις.
Όλα είναι πάνω στο τραπέζι και
το τραπέζι είναι κούτσικο. Θα σου ’στελνα μαξιλάρι
να το κρατήσεις γερά πάνω στο πρόσωπο του παιδιού
μέχρι να σταματήσουν οι κλωτσιές, με τις σημερινές τιμές όμως
μαξιλάρι δεν έχει. Είμαι το αδιανόητο
όμως εσύ θα με διανοηθείς. Στούμπωσε το στόμα της
με ποτηρόπανα, πάτησε κάτω γερά
το παλιό σου μουχλιασμένο αδιάβροχο
ώσπου να μην έχει άλλη ανάσα.

Αύριο θα με ξέρετε ως
Τετραετές Πακέτο Σταθεροποίησης.
Κλείσε τη γάτα στο φούρνο και ψήσε την
στους διακόσους βαθμούς κελσίου.
Δέσε την τελευταία σου πλαστική σακούλα
γύρω από το κεφάλι σου. Τα νούμερα μιλάνε μόνα τους
και τραπέζι δεν υπάρχει.
Kevin Higgins
Μετάφραση: Λίνα Σιπιτάνου

Italian translation

Mantra dell’Austerità

Tutto deve essere messo in conto.

La tua nonnina di 97 anni

non è più redditizia, trarrebbe

enormi vantaggi dall’essere messa faccia a faccia

con una compassionevole mazza da baseball.

Le cifre parlano da sole e

staranno anche peggio domattina. Il paraplegico

sulla sua sedia a rotelle assurdamente costosa

dovrà strisciare come Dio comanda.

Queste sono le cifre e non smetteranno

di parlare, questo è il conto

tutto deve esservi incluso. Ieri il mio nome era

Correzione Fiscale Temporanea.

Stasera, l'insetto alla radio mi chiama

L'Inevitabile. Quando l'economista

alza la mano, attento a non tossire.

Tutto va messo in conto e

il conto è davvero esiguo. Ti invierei un cuscino

da tenere premuto sulla faccia di tuo figlio

finché non smetta di scalciare, ma ai tassi correnti

non potrà esserci alcun cuscino. Io sono l'impensabile

ma tu mi penserai. Riempile la bocca

di stracci, tieni premuto saldamente

il tuo vecchio e ammuffito impermeabile,

finché non smetta di respirare.

Domani sarò conosciuto come

Pacchetto di Consolidamento Quadriennale.

Chiudi il gatto nel forno e cuocilo

a 200 gradi centigradi.

Legati l’ultimo sacchetto di plastica

in testa. Le cifre parlano da sole

e il conto è ormai esaurito.