The House of the Mute

 
So much neglect you show, endlessly you do…
You think: a plough-ox—where else would it go!
When day ends, it must return to this very shed,
tomorrow it will descend to the fields again, just like today!…
Where else would it go?


If it won't go to the fields, I'll flay the hide from its back,
and drag it there all the same!
A plough-ox—what need has it for a place to return to?


Stale or rotten, whatever you give, it will eat just fine,
if there's no room in the house, well, what's the courtyard for then?
Go there, tie it up in the corner…and that's that!


When night falls, mosquitoes buzz, and all sorts of insects…
It will endure it all!
Tell me, it's a mute creature after all…
They endure everything when the time comes!


They plough the fields, bear the yoke on their shoulders,
wither in the scorching sun, let rain soak their bodies,…
You see, don't you, they get along just fine!


I am mute, so I know
that the mute can bear anything…!
They endure it all,…give them whatever you will!


You, all of you…know so much, yet
you don't really know…so many things!


If you knew everything, brother, you'd know this too—
even the mute, one day, find their home!
Even the mute find shelter…of supreme joy, of deep affection!
Love, tenderness—people give these to the mute as well!