Springbok – Poem by Oskar Hansen
A springbok runs fast on the savanna avoiding
lions and other predators, but ultimately it is
destined to become food for slayers and thus
useful. Going back two and a half million years,
my African ancestors too hunted them.
In Portugal the African heritage is quite strong,
their Fado tells us of a past forever lost.
Our life span is short, mere dust in the eye of
eternity, and people have bought bicycles in
the hope of living longer, we all hope to live to
be hundred years old even if we are overcome
by senility and lose track of time.
On a dairy farm, you will see a pastoral scene
brown& white cows, with full udders, eating
juicy grass, but they do give birth and if it is
a male calf it get killed after two weeks, cause
It is not useful, and destroyed.
There is no money to be made of milk-calves
few eat them and it cost more money sending
them to an abattoir, they are not even worthy
to end up as hamburger meat; and I find this
waste a colossal disgrace a sin against nature.
Lucky is the springbok