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Huang Canran’s translation is like a person delivering an important letter to the reception after get off work: the reception is closed. Like a man trying to warn the city of an impending flood, but speaking another language. They don’t understand him. Like a beggar knocking on a door for the fifth time, having been given something the first four times: the fifth time he was hungry. Like a man whose wound is bleeding profusely, waiting for the doctor: the wound continues to bleed profusely. We, too, come to report that someone has done something bad to us. When it was first reported that our friend had been slaughtered, there were exclamations. Then a hundred people were massacred. But when a thousand people are slaughtered and the slaughter won’t stop, silence spreads. When something bad is like rain, no one will yell “stop!” When crimes start to pile up, they become invisible. When the pain becomes unbearable, the cry becomes inaudible. The cry is like the heavy rain in summer. 1935 * Excerpted from “To Future Generations—Selected Poems of Brecht”, translated by Huang Canran, Yazhong Culture/Beijing United Publishing Company, April 2022* Huang Canran: Announcer of Sad News——Brecht and its poetry
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