Chenard Walcker & Roy Chicky Arad - I Vanunu [fsz040] Words: Roy "Chicky" Arad www.chicky.org Music: Chenard Walcker www.chenardwalcker.com Songs 1-8 were translated from Hebrew by Bruno (Ha Sgan) Samolski and Gali Barhoosh Song 9 was translated from Hebrew by Pesach Slabosky 1. I Vanunu Yes, I Vanunu Under the table Watching T.V I Vanunu Tired at 5 In the afternoon, then dozing, following the Schnitzel I Mordechay Vanunu Gazing at a waitress With a neck whose tendons like a kite string In the lift and at the office Vanunu At the office and in the lift Vanunu I do not plan on purchasing an apartment I’ve got no car, cause I fancy conversing with the Taxi drivers I Vanunu 2. 2004 And on the city’s background, a scratch On a back, and in the background The city 2004 just like pate Of liver. In Pompeii – You should work just like You Should. Perhaps I should shove Up my ass the phone charger An escalator To some shopping mall Where does it go? What are the thoughts of The table when I am In bed with it. What does the ashtray think This era Is moist This era Is the best A young lady with a curtain on her face in some border town I am the one to approach holding An iron I am the inter-city Cause 2004 is just like pate Of liver 3. Tanned Ashtrays Tanned Ashtrays I am growing tired It is not love It is like an expensive shirt I’ve got for free Yellow sand, yellow heart Yellow sand, tired heart You consume such a small part of my bed So how can I not fall in love with you? So how can I not cease to fall in love Half a minute later? Just put your hand inside my underpants, When we are asleep. 4. The Corpse The hawk is approaching the corpse The falcon in squeaking his eye onto the corpse A snake is teeming towards the corpse. It a rainy day, Nevertheless, A serpent crawls on its belly towards the carcass, out of his tongue comes up a vapor of yellow and venom. The hawk and the falcon are fallen onto the corpse. Their heads clung with lace, The hawk is poking the falcon's belly. Poultry of courage and fortress is dropping into the desert. A bravery ladybird is rolled up in her sand. The serpent is getting closer, it can already smell the corpse, As slippery as future, as elegant as the opinion. The centipede is also scheming from the rock to the corpse As pale as the page! Its legs are forming the letter "g" upside down! However it is I to be the first reaching the corpse I am the corpse 5. Tracksuit Girls in tracksuit! Boys in tracksuit! A state in tracksuit! An army in tracksuit! An enemy army in tracksuit! A border conflict in tracksuit! An independence struggle in tracksuit! 10 killed in tracksuit! What are 2 children in tracksuit? Outside Tel-Aviv? In tracksuit? What do they think over there, in tracksuit? 6. Tel Aviv Song In my hand – The tail of the metropolitan gecko Tel Aviv Orange and enwetting A skink with merely veins Lust with no focus, no P.O. Box Shining and plosive, scampering then sucking I do not understand why there are seconds that I’m alone. The sycamores are laying their droppings on cheap cars The breasts are corking in white bras and then there Those display window breasts – Tel Aviv! – What’s Wrong, actually, with those display window breasts? And projects – They are like sycamore feces – Everywhere, everywhere. Cinematic and ecological projects, And eco-cinematic. I am now working on Founding a super-union for the bulimic. Really the national union of the vomiting And I’m writing two pages simultaneously. Still, I’m doing nothing And anywhere outside Tel-Aviv, the siege. The damned grey war, APCs of boredom. What would I do without the city’s dick-vein? 7. Babbling on King George Street Babbling on King George St. Babbling on Plunit Lane You are pretty! Inside you there’s a parrot. Polygamy past a decent hour. Babbling on Hanviim St. Which is greenish and vigorous. A girl with a Beitar FC shirt We enter a corner of A knife-sharpening store (It’s closed now) And I pushing my hand under her shirt I raise one leg And squeeze her onto the window An archeologist is having a walk at the same time Doing nothing. There are, it is well-known, power cables Above which are hanging plants Now they are dry My heart is green George Bush – his penis is thicker than mine. A girl carrying a circle and polygon shaped bag Which may have been a part of a bird Danny Naveh says something on the radio, And in the back, just behind Danny Naveh, it’s the war. I want to fuck someone from the cover of “Extra” magazine. I’ve had it with page 9 girls! I’ve had it with page 15 girls! What a nerve, an e n o u r m o u s b a c k! I t ‘ s e n o u r m o u s! I t ‘ s e n o u r m o u s! I wonder whether it is decent for a guy more unattractive than myself To hug a girl wearing a red shirt? Horrible tattoos Pink stars at the sky of stores. And the trees are not willing to ??????????? (Unclear handwriting) A girl is looking to the right and to the left, Next to the pharmacy. 051 ?????? Passover 2004, reading Meir Vizeltir’s Translation to Apollinaire. The phone number at the end is some phone number I managed to get. 8. The coffee The coffee is on top of the saucer Underneath them is the table Underneath them is the country How beautiful I am in Dizzengoff How repulsive is Dizzengoff Street without me 9. The Owl From the yellow sand, to slaughter the falcons, to blanch the adder’s visage, the rock owl. I’ve seen it all, I haven’t seen anything yet-- the rock owl. On every side, an ad for R.C Cola.-- ‘round his earlobes Israeli Rap from the frenzy system, --the rock owl. Will strike and flee, will crush and ascend, the owl will blaze in the desert wind, brazed of a grainy mound of darkness, the owl, The first Israeli owl, rattles his wings deep in the pit, and upon him a man in a gay American shirt. Right here! Right here! (ten years previously) A blue sky like a tee shirt. It’s the meanwhile of the desert. On this spot will be raised the Negev Mall, With a ransack of bones. his rage is crystal and his arrows metal ringing to the Hever owl born of Het. And Yossi the assistant surveyor, And the Beer Sheva city coalition. And I and little Nir! I and the owl! I and the owl! Erez Surveyors Inc! Erez Surveyors Inc! Wielding the sword his arm runneled with wounds, the owl the son of Anath Earth’s son, son of the crescent. the owl. Beer Sheva of the early Nineties, and the former desert, slowly spreading his wings, bronzed and mortared, and quietly revealing his sword. What sense for me now owl and love? And then the mall, three stories, octagonal with fluted skin, and a floor of restaurants yellowed with dust, standing five and a hundred cubits clad in chill marble. And the folks with their swords, next to picantic-china across from I.M.P. The Fox-Man store is next to a pile of orange clothing, and the Fox-Man salesgirl, a pretty gumchewer aged one score less two her face pitted, chewed, blue-green, gleaming with fire, her heart chewed with lust and passion. (On her chest a freckled shirt that will never by stylish, whatever may come to pass) And in the volume of the mall shouts the owl with zeal with a torch-cry I am immortal I am King Kong of the desert, I am Godzilla of the Negev The Golem of the Negev Mall. His grandfather? Baal. His grandmother? A Canadian real estate developer of Jewish origin, massing and buying, racing with their dumb shopping bags down the neon corridors, in the formike passage. And the local paper’s photog flashes, And then the guard, brave and proud (He already fought in Afghanistan, a Lau missile powdered his nose), he draws his gun, Looks at the Fox-Man Girl, the foxie human’s girl. And the owl, there’s the cool and quiet flint, weary, his eyes today are dry, the beat of his wings is aureate, his feathers are pure creolite, he smiles. Raise the fire and consume the mall and its daughters, conflagrate the merchandise of Fox-Man, the wild bull of Burger Ranch. I’ve seen it all, I haven’t seen anything yet-- the rock owl. Who will re-inter the rock owl, the fire owl? What transgression made I on this dread world? - Mall nation by the owl accursed. A human being by the owl accursed. An owl by his smile accursed. Special for Michal Helfman’s exhibition at Venice Art Biannale 2003.