On the suicide of the refugee W.B (For friends in Calais)

Here’s a draft of that new translation of Bertolt Brecht’s poem “On the suicide of the refugee W.B.”, again the original is below in German, with my equally mediocre literal translation, with thanks again to Nelly Sachs, Freddy Nietzsche, Teddy&Max, et al for source material.

Finally driven to an impassable border.
Whoever will have shifted all the border stones, will have taught humans how to fly.

Preempting the butchers you raised your hand against yourself
We stones, when we are raised.
History is compressed. future is darkened, a
Space removed, reversed, contained, armoured.
Tear/gas.
We stones, who raised a million memories against ourselves.

Mouth sutured, you saw it.
Against gangster politicians, all border stones will flee into the air.
Weak forces: Of happiness without power / of a wage without labour / of a homeland without border stones / of religion without myth.

You have passed, they say,
Todfeind der Herrschaft,
over a passable one.
As you a torturable body, Frei.
No dying at the right time, Today.
You destroyed.

I hear.

Zum Freitod des Flüchtlings W. B.

Ich höre, daß du die Hand gegen dich erhoben hast
Dem Schlächter zuvorkommend.
Acht Jahre verbannt, den Aufstieg des Feindes beobachtend
Zuletzt an eine unüberschreitbare Grenze getrieben
Hast du, heißt es, eine überschreitbare überschritten.
Reiche stürzen. Die Bandenführer
Schreiten daher wie Staatsmänner. Die Völker
Sieht man nicht mehr unter den Rüstungen.
So liegt die Zukunft in Finsternis, und die guten Kräfte
Sind schwach. All das sahst du
Als du den quälbaren Leib zerstörtest.

On the suicide of the refugee W. B

I hear that you raised your hand against yourself
Preempting the butchers.
Eight years exiled, watching the rise of the enemy
Finally driven to an impassable border.
You have passed, they say, over a passable one.
Empires collapse. Gang leaders
March about like statesmen. The people
Are no longer visible beneath the armaments.
So the future lies in darkness, and the forces of good
Are weak. You saw all of that
When you destroyed the torturable body