Good translation! From ollie, one of the translators at Viggo-Works:
Therapies A cronopio gets his medical licence and opens a practice on Calle Santiago del Estero. Immediately a sick man comes in and tells him there are things that hurt him and how he doesn’t sleep by night or eat by day.
-Buy a big bouquet of roses, says the cronopio.
Astonished the sick man goes away, but buys the bouquet and is instantly cured. Full of gratitude he goes to the cronopio, and as well as paying offers him a present, a fine token, a beautiful bouquet of roses. No sooner has he gone than the cronopio falls ill, he aches all over, he doesn´t sleep by night and doesn´t eat by day.
yah, no, me neither, but yes- i mean, he made up words to describe different sets of attributes he observed in people- so for me, anyway, i'd need to learn those words, what they describe, then see if i can see that....
and yet, and yet. as a nurse, as an empathetic person by nature, i know how easy it is to land up with the other's ills as my own, as though the 'cure' is to shift their ills to me, not to support them while they shift them some way of their own, either off, or converted to something of value...
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i love the stuff he comes up with on PP even if it takes me a while to mull it over.
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Therapies
A cronopio gets his medical licence and opens a practice on Calle Santiago del Estero. Immediately a sick man comes in and tells him there are things that hurt him and how he doesn’t sleep by night or eat by day.
-Buy a big bouquet of roses, says the cronopio.
Astonished the sick man goes away, but buys the bouquet and is instantly cured. Full of gratitude he goes to the cronopio, and as well as paying offers him a present, a fine token, a beautiful bouquet of roses. No sooner has he gone than the cronopio falls ill, he aches all over, he doesn´t sleep by night and doesn´t eat by day.
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and yet, and yet. as a nurse, as an empathetic person by nature, i know how easy it is to land up with the other's ills as my own, as though the 'cure' is to shift their ills to me, not to support them while they shift them some way of their own, either off, or converted to something of value...
it's a lot to mull over. a good poem, then.
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