I got bored with looking at the bears
Eating greedily the giving
Of their great bear,
And with the monkeys
Climbing the trees
Every day
To throw fruit
And fill the air with screaming and yelling.
I got bored with the dogs
Sniffing the corpses,
With the parrots crushing the words,
And with the dove deserting us
Every day
To die in the midst of the letter boat
Searching for Noah and his great flood.
I got bored with waiting and non-waiting,
With advantage and disadvantage,
With friendship and enmity,
With the charity bread
And the bread soaked in blood,
With the scent of meaning
And the scent of meaninglessness,
With heaven that never comes
And with hell that stripteases every day
To uncover its violent attractiveness
In the circus of great torture.
I got bored with crying and silence,
With tears and with petrified tears,
With those who crossed the isthmus
And sold our clothes.
With those who surrounded us
And stole our letters
In great pleasure.
I got bored with mail
And the post box,
With the faithless friends,
And the rough friends,
And the thieving friends
With the letter at its blazing
But finds nobody to see its light.
And the letter dying
But finds nobody to recite upon it
The first sura of the Holy Koran.
I got bored with war and peace,
With hunting and hiding,
With poverty and the ghost of poverty,
With hunger and the bear of hunger,
With embers put on the tongue,
With the salt put in the base of the wall,
With female slaves' legs and effeminate men,
With harlots' lips,
Spinsters' breasts,
And beggars' palms.
With time that turns into sand,
Straw and ash.
I got bored with you;
Whoever you are
Wherever you are
I got bored with myself;
I am the great bored one.