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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429054" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cairo Jag</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shall I get drunk or cut myself a piece of cake,<br>a pasty Syrian with a few words of English<br>or the Turk who says she is a princess--she dances<br>apparently by levitation? Or Marcelle, Parisienne<br>always preoccupied with her dull dead lover:<br>she has all the photographs and his letters<br>tied in a bundle and stamped Decede in mauve ink.<br>All this takes place in a stink of jasmin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But there are the streets dedicated to sleep<br>stenches and the sour smells, the sour cries<br>do not disturb their application to slumber<br>all day, scattered on the pavement like rags<br>afflicted with fatalism and hashish. The women<br>offering their children brown-paper breasts<br>dry and twisted, elongated like the skull,<br>Holbein's signature. But his stained white town<br>is something in accordance with mundane conventions-<br>Marcelle drops her Gallic airs and tragedy<br>suddenly shrieks in Arabic about the fare<br>with the cabman, links herself so<br>with the somnambulists and legless beggars:<br>it is all one, all as you have heard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But by a day's travelling you reach a new world<br>the vegetation is of iron<br>dead tanks, gun barrels split like celery<br>the metal brambles have no flowers or berries<br>and there are all sorts of manure, you can imagine<br>the dead themselves, their boots, clothes and possessions<br>clinging to the ground, a man with no head<br>has a packet of chocolate and a souvenir of Tripoli.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Keith+Douglas">Keith Douglas</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=429054" data-title="Cairo Jag de Keith Douglas" data-description="Shall I get drunk or cut myself a piece of cake,
a pasty Syrian with a few words of English
or the Turk who says she is a princess--she dances
apparently by levitation? Or Marcelle, Parisienne
always preoccupied with her dull dead lover:
she has a..."></div>
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