Black and White (Блэк энд уайт (Чёрное и белое), 1932) by Leonid Amalrik and Ivan Ivanov-Vano

1. Admin 2024-11-14 21:52:40 (edited 2024-11-14 21:55:30)

Here's the full "EconJobRumours" translation of the poem, that I saw back in 2021. I'm posting it here because the URL is now dead and I can't find it anywhere else. I figure it should be preserved at least somewhere online. It's a rather "spicy" version, more so than the Russian text, I'd say. But interesting.

Mayakovsky - Black and White (1925)

Economist
0e1a

Not much has changed:

A glimpse
at Havana
bright from the windows
A sunland
under the palms stand
red shadows,
the one legged flamingoes;
and bloom
collarlos
In high toned
Vedado.
Of frontiers
Havana
no lack;
Dollars bound the white man,
bare pockets the black.
And so
Willie stands flush
with his brush
before Henry Clay
& Co.
Enough splinters
and fluff
to stock a dead forest
Has black Willie brushed
his lean living
to win.
That's why Willie's hair
off has been harassed
And his belly
brushed in.

Dreams dwarf In cramped beds --
thin phantoms of joy --
Sometimes a thief
or a wharf gang chief
throws a cent
to the "boy."
No escape from the dirt shoveling shoe.
if only
man walked
on his head?--
All the worse !
More dirt
would be spread.
Hairs are a thousand,
feet only two.
Sparkles
and sputters
a three mile jazz.
Straight and ahead
slick boulevards spin.
"Ah here," his mind
the dim thought
has,
the veritable
Eden
must have been.
No subtleties coil
in Willie's
brain,
where little was sown
and little grown;
but one thing's cut
far in
by pain --
(Not deeper
the words indent
the stone of Maseo's
monument)
"White man eats fruit
that's ripe
and firm;
black man
shares his
with the worm.
In fair hands
fair work
parks;
on dark hands
falls the dark."
No great queries worried Willie
but one question
had him stumped.
How that question
drilled through Willie ·--
When it stuck him,
willy-nilly,
from his arm
the big brush
slumped.

Too bad that
just then
heaved his way
toward the King of Cigars
Henry Clay,
in pluperfect whiteness
and big jowl wag,
his royal
sugar highness
Mr. Bragg.
Up to the fat one
runs the
'n***er':
"Beg yo' pardon
Mr. Bragg,
Aint it funny
yo' lily white
sugar
Black man makes and puts it in the bag
With yo' white color
black cigar's sho'
out o' place;
goes lots better
on the black man's
face.
Sugar in yo' coffee?--
Help yo'self,
help;
Be so kind, sir
make it
yo'self."
To flaming yellow
suddenly
the royal whiteness burns.

Here such a question
never goes.
The king does what
each white lord
learns;
then from his hands
his soiled gloves
throws.
Shaky Willie wipes his hand
across his drawers
across his stern.
Broad red smears
he leaves there from
his bloody nose.
Painful sniffs he draws up with
his Injured organ.
Don't ask no questions
of a
gorgon.
One hand on his brush
Willy
presses,
the other to
his bruised cheek
goes.

That such questions
one addresses
To Comintern,
Moscow,
how should Willie
know?

Mayakovsky - Black and White (1925)

Economist
    0e1a

Not much has changed:

A glimpse
    at Havana
    bright from the windows
    A sunland
    under the palms stand
    red shadows,
    the one legged flamingoes;
    and bloom
    collarlos
    In high toned
    Vedado.
    Of frontiers
    Havana
    no lack;
    Dollars bound the white man,
    bare pockets the black.
    And so
    Willie stands flush
    with his brush
    before Henry Clay
    & Co.
    Enough splinters
    and fluff
    to stock a dead forest
    Has black Willie brushed
    his lean living
    to win.
    That's why Willie's hair
    off has been harassed
    And his belly
    brushed in.

Dreams dwarf In cramped beds --
    thin phantoms of joy --
    Sometimes a thief
    or a wharf gang chief
    throws a cent
    to the "boy."
    No escape from the dirt shoveling shoe.
    if only
    man walked
    on his head?--
    All the worse !
    More dirt
    would be spread.
    Hairs are a thousand,
    feet only two.
    Sparkles
    and sputters
    a three mile jazz.
    Straight and ahead
    slick boulevards spin.
    "Ah here," his mind
    the dim thought
    has,
    the veritable
    Eden
    must have been.
    No subtleties coil
    in Willie's
    brain,
    where little was sown
    and little grown;
    but one thing's cut
    far in
    by pain --
    (Not deeper
    the words indent
    the stone of Maseo's
    monument)
    "White man eats fruit
    that's ripe
    and firm;
    black man
    shares his
    with the worm.
    In fair hands
    fair work
    parks;
    on dark hands
    falls the dark."
    No great queries worried Willie
    but one question
    had him stumped.
    How that question
    drilled through Willie ·--
    When it stuck him,
    willy-nilly,
    from his arm
    the big brush
    slumped.

Too bad that
    just then
    heaved his way
    toward the King of Cigars
    Henry Clay,
    in pluperfect whiteness
    and big jowl wag,
    his royal
    sugar highness
    Mr. Bragg.
    Up to the fat one
    runs the
    'n***er':
    "Beg yo' pardon
    Mr. Bragg,
    Aint it funny
    yo' lily white
    sugar
    Black man makes and puts it in the bag
    With yo' white color
    black cigar's sho'
    out o' place;
    goes lots better
    on the black man's
    face.
    Sugar in yo' coffee?--
    Help yo'self,
    help;
    Be so kind, sir
    make it
    yo'self."
    To flaming yellow
    suddenly
    the royal whiteness burns.

Here such a question
    never goes.
    The king does what
    each white lord
    learns;
    then from his hands
    his soiled gloves
    throws.
    Shaky Willie wipes his hand
    across his drawers
    across his stern.
    Broad red smears
    he leaves there from
    his bloody nose.
    Painful sniffs he draws up with
    his Injured organ.
    Don't ask no questions
    of a
    gorgon.
    One hand on his brush
    Willy
    presses,
    the other to
    his bruised cheek
    goes.

That such questions
    one addresses
    To Comintern,
    Moscow,
    how should Willie
    know?

Year	1932
Director(s)	Amalrik Leonid Ivanov-Vano Ivan
Studio(s)	Mezhrabpomfilm
Language(s)	Russian
Genre(s)	Literature (Rus./East Slavic) Politics
Animation Type(s)	Drawn (not cel)
Length	00:06:45
Wordiness	5.27
Animator.ru profile	Ru, En