The Astronomer
only said, "When in the evening the round full moon gets
entangled among the beaches of that Dadam tree, couldn't somebody
catch it?"
But dada laughed at me and said, "Baby, you are the silliest
child I have ever known.
The moon is ever so far from us, how could
anybody catch it?"
I said, "Dada, how foolish you are! When mother looks out of
her window and smiles down at us playing, would you call her far
away?"
Still dada said, "You are a stupid child! But, baby where
could you find a net big enough to catch themoon with?"
I said, "Surely you could catch it with your hands.
"
But dada laughed and said, "You are the silliest child I have
known.
>If it came nearer, you would see how big the moon is.
"
I said, "Dada, what nonsense they teach at your school! When
mother bends her face down to kiss us, does her face look very
big?"
But still dada says, "You are a stupid child.
"
Tristan Tzara
To Make a Dadaist Poem
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.Shake gently.
Shake gently.Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.The poem will resemble you.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are—an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Next carefully cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.Shake gently.
Shake gently.Next take out each cutting one after the other.
Next take out each cutting one after the other.Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.The poem will resemble you.
The poem will resemble you.
And there you are—an infinitely original author of charming sensibility, even though unappreciated by the vulgar herd.
Rabindranath Tagore
Андре Бретон
Из книги «Седовласый револьвер» (1932)
Совершенно белые мужчина и женщина
Я вижу волшебных проституток укрывшихся под зонтами
Их платья древесным цветом слегка поджелтил фонарь
Они гуляют а рядом свисают лохмотья обоев
Сердце щемит как посмотришь на этот полуразрушенный дом
На беломраморную раковину слетевшую с каминной доски
На смутные вереницы вещей в зеркалах вставших за ними
Кварталом где бродят они овладевает
Великий инстинкт сгоранья
Они подобны опаленным цветам
Далекий их взгляд взвивает камни вихрем
Но сами они неподвижны и пропадают
В сердцевине этого смерча.....................................
Перевод Марка Гринберга
Совершенно белые мужчина и женщина
Я вижу волшебных проституток укрывшихся под зонтами
Их платья древесным цветом слегка поджелтил фонарь
Они гуляют а рядом свисают лохмотья обоев
Сердце щемит как посмотришь на этот полуразрушенный дом
На беломраморную раковину слетевшую с каминной доски
На смутные вереницы вещей в зеркалах вставших за ними
Кварталом где бродят они овладевает
Великий инстинкт сгоранья
Они подобны опаленным цветам
Далекий их взгляд взвивает камни вихрем
Но сами они неподвижны и пропадают
В сердцевине этого смерча.....................................
Перевод Марка Гринберга
Rabindranath Tagore
Superior
Mother, your baby is silly! She is so absurdly childish!
She does not know the difference between the lights in the streets and the stars.
When we play at eating with pebbles, she thinks they are real food, and tries to put them into her mouth.
When I open a book before her and ask her to learn her a, b, c, she tears the leaves with her hands and roars for joy at nothing;
this is your baby's way of doing her lesson.
When I shake my head at her in anger and scold her and call her naughty, she laughs and thinks it great fun.
Everybody knows that father is away, but if in play I call aloud "Father,"
she looks about her in excitement and thinks that father is near.
When I hold my class with the donkeys that our washer man
brings to carry away the clothes and I warn her that I am the schoolmaster,
she will scream for no reason and call me dada.
Your baby wants to catch the moon.
She is so funny; she calls Ganesh Ganush.
Mother, your baby is silly! She is so absurdly childish!
Mother, your baby is silly! She is so absurdly childish!
She does not know the difference between the lights in the streets and the stars.
When we play at eating with pebbles, she thinks they are real food, and tries to put them into her mouth.
When I open a book before her and ask her to learn her a, b, c, she tears the leaves with her hands and roars for joy at nothing;
this is your baby's way of doing her lesson.
When I shake my head at her in anger and scold her and call her naughty, she laughs and thinks it great fun.
Everybody knows that father is away, but if in play I call aloud "Father,"
she looks about her in excitement and thinks that father is near.
When I hold my class with the donkeys that our washer man
brings to carry away the clothes and I warn her that I am the schoolmaster,
she will scream for no reason and call me dada.
Your baby wants to catch the moon.
She is so funny; she calls Ganesh Ganush.
Mother, your baby is silly! She is so absurdly childish!
Brian Strand
DADA
The
random
selecion-
a hobby-horse
art.
D A D A _