F.T. Marinetti's Futurist Manifesto
Weesa hava been uppa all night, my friends an' I, hangin' moskrats beneath moska lamps whosa brassa coppolas are brighta as our souls, becausa lika dem dere were illuminati by da glow of electric hearts. An' tramplin' onderfeet our native sloth on opulent Persian moquette, we hava beena discussin' right oppa to da limits offa logic an' scrawlin' da paper widda demented writin'.
Mama mia! Our hearts were filled weeth an immensa da pride at feelin' ourselves standin' quite alone, lika lightahouses or lika sentinella in an outapost, facin' da army offa enemy stars encamped inna dere celestial, was da word? encampaments. Alone weeth da engineers in da infernal stinkholes offa great sheeps, alone weeth da black spirits wheech rage in da belly offa rogue steam eengines, alone weeth da dronkards reelin' lika wounded birds, beatin' dere wings against da city walls.
Then weesa were soddenly distracted by da romblin's offa huge dobble decker bosses that went leapa by, streaked weeth light lika da villages celebratin' dere festivals, wheech da Po in flood soddenly knocka down an' uproots, an', in da rapids an' eddies offa da deluge, drags down to da sea.
Then da silence deepened. Bot, as weesa leestened to da last faint prayer of da old canal an' da cromblings offa da bones offa da ailin' palaces weeth dere green growth offa damp beards, soddenly da hongry automobiles roared beneeth our weendows.
'Comma, my friends!' I said. 'Lessa go! At last Mythology an' da Mystic cult offa da Ideal hava been left behind. Weesa are goin' to be present at da birth offa da Centaur an' weesa shall soon see da first Angels fly! Weesa mosta break down da gates offa life to test da hinges an' da padlocks! Lessa go! Here ees da very first sonrise on earth! Nothin' equals da splendor offa ees red sword wheech strikes for da first time in our millenial desolation!'
Weesa went oppa to da three snorting machines to caress dere breasts. I lay along mine lika da corpse on its bier, bot I soddenly revived again beneath da steerin' wheel - da guilotine knife - wheech threatened my stomach. A great sweep offa madness brought us sharply back to ourselves an' drove us through da streets, steep an' deep, lika dried up torrents. Here an' dere unhappy lamps in da weendows taught us to despise our mathematical eyes. 'Smell,' I exclaimed, 'smell ees good enough for wild beasts!'
An' weesa hunted, lika yong lions, death weeth eet's black fur dappled weeth pale crosses, who ran before us in da vast violet sky, palpable an' livin'.
An' yet weesa had no ideal Mistress stretchin' her divine figure up to da clouds, nor yet a cruel Queen to whom to offer our corpses, tweested into da shape offa Pretzel rings! No reason to die onless it ees da desire to be free offa da too great weight offa our courage!
Weesa drove on, croshin' beneath our burnin' wheels, lika shirt-collars onder da iron, da watch dogs on da steps offa da houses.
Death, tamed, went in front offa me at each corner offerin' me hees hand nicely, an' sometimes lay on da ground weeth a noise offa creakin' jaws geevin' me velvet glances from da bottom offa puddles.
'Let us leave good sense behind lika da hideous husk an' let us hurl ourselves, lika fruit spiced weeth pride, eento da immense mouth an' breast offa da world! Let us feed da unkown, not from despair, bot seemply to enreech da unfathomable reservoirs offa da Absurd!
As soon as I hadda said these words, I turned sharply back on my tracks weeth da mad intoxication offa puppies bitin' dere tails, an' soddenly dere were two cyclists comin' straight outa da blue, shaking dere feests an' totterin' in front offa me lika two persuasive bot contradictory reasons. Their eediotic swayin' got in my way. Whot a bore! Damn! I stopped short, an' in deesgust hurled myself - Boof! - head offer heels an' landed opside down in da deetch.
Oh, motherly deetch, halfa full offa muddy water! Factory drainage! I swallowed a mouthful offa your nourishin' muck, remembering da saintly black teets offa my Sudanese nurse! When I rose, besmuttered an' steenkin', from beneath my overturned auto, I felt da red hot poker offa joy sweetly stab my heart.
A crowd offa feesherman weetha handlines, an' naturalists weetha paroxysmal disease, crowded aroun' me, terrified offa soch a marvel. With lovin' an' patient care, weesa raised op great hooks danglin' from beeg derricks to feesh outa my automobile, lika da beega beached shark. It rosa slowly from da deetch, leaven' in da hole, lika feesha scales, eesa heavy coachwork offa good sense an' eesa soft opholst'ry offa comfort.
Weesa thought it wassa dead, my beautiful shark, bot weeth one caress along eets powerful body was enough to give eet life again an' ronnin' as fast as eet could weeth eets fins.
An' so, weeth my face smeared een good factory mud, covered with scratches from da metal, weeth senseless sweat an' celestial dust, weesa, amidst offa da feeshermen's complaints and da seethin' naturalists, weesa dictated our first weel an' testament to all da livin' men offa da earth.
Manifesto offa Futurism (Handbook di Anarchico)
1. Weesa wanna to singa da love offa danger, da habit offa energy an' fearlessness.
2. Courage, audacity, an' revolt weela be da essentials offa our poetry.
3. Uppa to now lit'ature has exalted notta too mooch, pensive immobility, delirium, an' sleep, moocha sleep. Weesa want to exalt da aggressive act, feverish sleeplessness, da quick'a da march, da dangerous leap, da slap an' da blow offa da beeg fist.
4. Weesa declare da world's magnificence has been vitalized by da new beauty, da beauty offa speed. Da racin' automobile whosa bonnet eesa adorn' weeth beega pipes, lika da explodin' breasts offa snakes - a roarin' motor car wheech'a seems to ron onna da grape juice offa machine gun fire, eesa more pretty than da Victory offa Samothrace.
5. Weesa wanna to sing da man atta da wheel, whosa ideal spirit eesa spear through da axis offa da world.
6. Da poet moosta spend heesa life weeth warmth, glamour and gen'rosity, to maka beeg da enthusiastic ferver offa da primordial elements.
7. Beauty exists only inna da struggle. Nothin' weethout an aggressive character canna be'a masterpiece. Poetry moosta attack da forces offa da unknown violently, maka dem prostrate before mankind.
8. Weesa stand onna da last hill offa da centuries! Weesa most notta look back, when whatta weesa wanna do is break open da mysterious shutters offa da impossible. Time an' da Space died yesterday. Weesa are now livin' inna da absolute, since weesa have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.
9. Weesa weell glorify war - the only cure for da world - militarism, da public spirit, da destructive pantomimicry offa da anarchists, beautiful ideas wheech are worth dying for, an' da contempt for seessies.
10. Weesa wanna destroy da museums, libraries, colleges offa every kind, maka war onna morality, fight feminism an' every opportunistic or utilitarian cowardice.
11. Weesa weell sing offa da great agitated crowds mad weetha work, by pleasure, an' by riot; weesa weell sing da rainbow-hued, polyphonic tides of revolutions inna da modern capitals, weesa weell sing da night-vibrations offa da arsenals an' da sheepyard workashops burning' weeth violent electric moons; da gluttonous railway depots swallowin' smoke-belchin' serpents; factories strung along da clouds weeth da thread offa dere fumes; gymnastic breedges leapin' diabolically knifelike across da sonny rivers; adventurous steama d'sheeps sneefin' da horizon; puffing, beeg-breasted locomotives, whosa wheels paw da tracks like da hooves offa enormous steel horses bridled weetha pipes; an' glidin' sweeft aeroplanes whosa chatterin' propellers flap lika pennants, cheerin' lika enthusiastic crowds.
Marinetti's Manifesto of Futurism to be continued...
Mama mia! Our hearts were filled weeth an immensa da pride at feelin' ourselves standin' quite alone, lika lightahouses or lika sentinella in an outapost, facin' da army offa enemy stars encamped inna dere celestial, was da word? encampaments. Alone weeth da engineers in da infernal stinkholes offa great sheeps, alone weeth da black spirits wheech rage in da belly offa rogue steam eengines, alone weeth da dronkards reelin' lika wounded birds, beatin' dere wings against da city walls.
Then weesa were soddenly distracted by da romblin's offa huge dobble decker bosses that went leapa by, streaked weeth light lika da villages celebratin' dere festivals, wheech da Po in flood soddenly knocka down an' uproots, an', in da rapids an' eddies offa da deluge, drags down to da sea.
Then da silence deepened. Bot, as weesa leestened to da last faint prayer of da old canal an' da cromblings offa da bones offa da ailin' palaces weeth dere green growth offa damp beards, soddenly da hongry automobiles roared beneeth our weendows.
'Comma, my friends!' I said. 'Lessa go! At last Mythology an' da Mystic cult offa da Ideal hava been left behind. Weesa are goin' to be present at da birth offa da Centaur an' weesa shall soon see da first Angels fly! Weesa mosta break down da gates offa life to test da hinges an' da padlocks! Lessa go! Here ees da very first sonrise on earth! Nothin' equals da splendor offa ees red sword wheech strikes for da first time in our millenial desolation!'
Weesa went oppa to da three snorting machines to caress dere breasts. I lay along mine lika da corpse on its bier, bot I soddenly revived again beneath da steerin' wheel - da guilotine knife - wheech threatened my stomach. A great sweep offa madness brought us sharply back to ourselves an' drove us through da streets, steep an' deep, lika dried up torrents. Here an' dere unhappy lamps in da weendows taught us to despise our mathematical eyes. 'Smell,' I exclaimed, 'smell ees good enough for wild beasts!'
An' weesa hunted, lika yong lions, death weeth eet's black fur dappled weeth pale crosses, who ran before us in da vast violet sky, palpable an' livin'.
An' yet weesa had no ideal Mistress stretchin' her divine figure up to da clouds, nor yet a cruel Queen to whom to offer our corpses, tweested into da shape offa Pretzel rings! No reason to die onless it ees da desire to be free offa da too great weight offa our courage!
Weesa drove on, croshin' beneath our burnin' wheels, lika shirt-collars onder da iron, da watch dogs on da steps offa da houses.
Death, tamed, went in front offa me at each corner offerin' me hees hand nicely, an' sometimes lay on da ground weeth a noise offa creakin' jaws geevin' me velvet glances from da bottom offa puddles.
'Let us leave good sense behind lika da hideous husk an' let us hurl ourselves, lika fruit spiced weeth pride, eento da immense mouth an' breast offa da world! Let us feed da unkown, not from despair, bot seemply to enreech da unfathomable reservoirs offa da Absurd!
As soon as I hadda said these words, I turned sharply back on my tracks weeth da mad intoxication offa puppies bitin' dere tails, an' soddenly dere were two cyclists comin' straight outa da blue, shaking dere feests an' totterin' in front offa me lika two persuasive bot contradictory reasons. Their eediotic swayin' got in my way. Whot a bore! Damn! I stopped short, an' in deesgust hurled myself - Boof! - head offer heels an' landed opside down in da deetch.
Oh, motherly deetch, halfa full offa muddy water! Factory drainage! I swallowed a mouthful offa your nourishin' muck, remembering da saintly black teets offa my Sudanese nurse! When I rose, besmuttered an' steenkin', from beneath my overturned auto, I felt da red hot poker offa joy sweetly stab my heart.
A crowd offa feesherman weetha handlines, an' naturalists weetha paroxysmal disease, crowded aroun' me, terrified offa soch a marvel. With lovin' an' patient care, weesa raised op great hooks danglin' from beeg derricks to feesh outa my automobile, lika da beega beached shark. It rosa slowly from da deetch, leaven' in da hole, lika feesha scales, eesa heavy coachwork offa good sense an' eesa soft opholst'ry offa comfort.
Weesa thought it wassa dead, my beautiful shark, bot weeth one caress along eets powerful body was enough to give eet life again an' ronnin' as fast as eet could weeth eets fins.
An' so, weeth my face smeared een good factory mud, covered with scratches from da metal, weeth senseless sweat an' celestial dust, weesa, amidst offa da feeshermen's complaints and da seethin' naturalists, weesa dictated our first weel an' testament to all da livin' men offa da earth.
Manifesto offa Futurism (Handbook di Anarchico)
1. Weesa wanna to singa da love offa danger, da habit offa energy an' fearlessness.
2. Courage, audacity, an' revolt weela be da essentials offa our poetry.
3. Uppa to now lit'ature has exalted notta too mooch, pensive immobility, delirium, an' sleep, moocha sleep. Weesa want to exalt da aggressive act, feverish sleeplessness, da quick'a da march, da dangerous leap, da slap an' da blow offa da beeg fist.
4. Weesa declare da world's magnificence has been vitalized by da new beauty, da beauty offa speed. Da racin' automobile whosa bonnet eesa adorn' weeth beega pipes, lika da explodin' breasts offa snakes - a roarin' motor car wheech'a seems to ron onna da grape juice offa machine gun fire, eesa more pretty than da Victory offa Samothrace.
5. Weesa wanna to sing da man atta da wheel, whosa ideal spirit eesa spear through da axis offa da world.
6. Da poet moosta spend heesa life weeth warmth, glamour and gen'rosity, to maka beeg da enthusiastic ferver offa da primordial elements.
7. Beauty exists only inna da struggle. Nothin' weethout an aggressive character canna be'a masterpiece. Poetry moosta attack da forces offa da unknown violently, maka dem prostrate before mankind.
8. Weesa stand onna da last hill offa da centuries! Weesa most notta look back, when whatta weesa wanna do is break open da mysterious shutters offa da impossible. Time an' da Space died yesterday. Weesa are now livin' inna da absolute, since weesa have already created eternal, omnipresent speed.
9. Weesa weell glorify war - the only cure for da world - militarism, da public spirit, da destructive pantomimicry offa da anarchists, beautiful ideas wheech are worth dying for, an' da contempt for seessies.
10. Weesa wanna destroy da museums, libraries, colleges offa every kind, maka war onna morality, fight feminism an' every opportunistic or utilitarian cowardice.
11. Weesa weell sing offa da great agitated crowds mad weetha work, by pleasure, an' by riot; weesa weell sing da rainbow-hued, polyphonic tides of revolutions inna da modern capitals, weesa weell sing da night-vibrations offa da arsenals an' da sheepyard workashops burning' weeth violent electric moons; da gluttonous railway depots swallowin' smoke-belchin' serpents; factories strung along da clouds weeth da thread offa dere fumes; gymnastic breedges leapin' diabolically knifelike across da sonny rivers; adventurous steama d'sheeps sneefin' da horizon; puffing, beeg-breasted locomotives, whosa wheels paw da tracks like da hooves offa enormous steel horses bridled weetha pipes; an' glidin' sweeft aeroplanes whosa chatterin' propellers flap lika pennants, cheerin' lika enthusiastic crowds.
Marinetti's Manifesto of Futurism to be continued...
posted by Irish Poet Dom Giovanni | 8:42 PM
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