Kenzaburō ōe Quotes - QuotesSweet | quotesweet.com

Author: Kenzaburō Ōe
Quotes of Author: Kenzaburō Ōe

Kenzaburō Ōe _ The Silent Cry
Nelle tenebre profonde del sotterraneo, agitate da vorticosi mulinelli di vento, vidi gli occhi di un gatto morente, un gatto maschio tigrato che avevo tenuto da quando ero studente fino al mio matrimonio e fino al periodo in cui mia moglie stava per rimanere incinta: ricordavo i suoi occhi dallo sfortunato giorno in cui lo vidi, investito da una auto, con qualcosa simile a una mano rossa che gli spuntava tra le zampe. Gli occhi di un vecchio gatto, perfettamente quieti e limpidi, con le iridi gialle e luminose come piccoli crisantemi. Occhi tranquillamente inespressivi - almeno visti dall'esterno - nel profondo dei quali era contenuta un'immensa sofferenza ogni volta che i centri sensori del suo piccolo cervello erano trafitti da una scarica elettrica di dolore. Gli occhi di un gatto che considerava la propria agonia come qualcosa di assolutamente privato e, in quanto tale, inesistente per gli altri. Io avevo rifiutato di immaginare l'esistenza di persone i cui occhi nascondevano un simile inferno personale e avevano quella stessa espressione.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ A Personal Matter
Like Apollinaire, my son was wounded on a dark and lonely battlefield that I have never seen, and he has arrived with his head in bandages. I'll have to bury him like a soldier who died at war.Bird continued to cry.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ A Personal Matter
Σε ποια κατηγορία νεκρών θα κατέτασσες, θα κατηγορούσες και θα καταδίκαζες ένα μωρό με λειτουργίες φυτού, που είχε πεθάνει τη στιγμή που είχε γεννηθεί;
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ A Personal Matter
Ωστόσο η σειρήνα ήταν γι' αυτόν ένα κινούμενο αντικείμενο: πλησίαζε από κάποια απόσταση, έμενε για λίγο και απομακρυνόταν. Τώρα η σειρήνα ήταν ένα με αυτόν, σαν αρρώστια που την κουβαλούσε μέσα του. Αυτή η σειρήνα δεν θα απομακρυνόταν ποτέ.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ Rouse Up, O Young Men of the
His eyes made me shudder. They were bloodshot as though with fever, burning with a yellowish luster as of resin, raw. A beast in rut, having expended itself on impulse in a frenzy of sexual excess, is still rocked by aftershocks of desire. The period of wild activity is meant to give way at once to inaction and lethargy, but deep inside the body something continues to rage. From the look in my son's eyes he was being devoured from the inside by a beast in the grip of that wildness and could do nothing about it, and the rest of his face, his dark eyebrows and finely arched nose and bright-red lips, was slack and blank.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ Teach Us to Outgrow Our
In the swift wounding of his own flesh on a bewildering impulse from the hot, pitch-black core of himself he had felt a deep joy which was not only unperceived by the hoodlums surrounding him but which he himself was not even conscious of as joy.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ A Personal Matter
He was performing the role of the young husband who has been visited by sudden misfortune.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ A Personal Matter
He wondered if the humanity could be restored to their relationship after coition this inhuman
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ A Personal Matter
If I gave you enough time, you'd count off a hundred and one complexes in defense of your own impotence.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ The Day He Himself Shall Wipe
Deep one night he was trimming his nose that would never walk again into sunlight atop living legs, busily feeling every hair with a Rotex rotary nostril clipper as if to make his nostrils as bare as a monkey's, when suddenly a man, perhaps escaped from the mental ward in the same hospital or perhaps a lunatic who happened to be passing, with a body abnormally small and meagre for a man save only for a face as round as a Dharma's and covered in hair, sat down on the edge of his bed and shouted, foaming,
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ The Silent Cry
Ma l'idea non giunse ad affondare le sue radici, finì come quelle di una pianta acquatica, nelle pieghe logorate e affaticate del mio cervello. Questa fantasia fermentò per un po' e poi sparì, come bollicine d'aria in un bicchiere.
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Kenzaburō Ōe _ The Silent Cry
Alla fine notai un variopinto assembramento all'imboccatura del ponte. Un tempo i valligiani si vestivano di scuro, come branchi di sardine, e un gruppo di persone somigliava a un bico; ma gli abiti scadenti in vendita al supermercato avevano trasformato il colore della folla.
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