My dad did

Mai jos puteţi citi o poezie scrisă de Sophie Hannah, o autoare britanică de poezie şi thrillere psihologice. Nu mai spun că scrie best sellers, fiindcă nu cred în criteriul ăsta. Poezia de mai jos răscoleşte prin simplitatea ei dezarmantă. Veţi recunoaşte imediat că e intraductibilă, de aceea am şi lăsat-o aşa cum este ea în original.

My dad did

Where have they been, if they have been away?
Or what they’ve done at home, if they have not –
You make them write about the holiday.
One writes My dad did. What? Your dad did what?

That’s not a sentence. Never mind the bell.
We stay behind until the work is done.
You count theirs words (you who can count and spell);
All the assignments are complete bar one.

And though this boy seems bright, that one is his.
He says he’s finished, doesn’t want to add
Anything, hands it in just as it is.
No change. My dad did. What? What did his dad?

You find the ’E’ you gave him as you sort
Through reams of what this girl did, what that lad did,
And read that line again, just one ’e’ short:
This holiday was horrible. My dad did.

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