Carol Munder
Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream of escaping
poverty: that one magical day good luck will suddenly rain down on
them—will rain down in buckets. But good luck doesn’t rain down
yesterday, today, tomorrow, or ever. Good luck doesn’t even fall in a
fine drizzle, no matter how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their
left hand is tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right
foot, or start the new year with a change of brooms.
The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The nobodies: the
no ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits, dying through life,
screwed every which way.
Who are not, but could be.
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.
Who don’t have religions, but superstitions.
Who don’t create art, but handicrafts.
Who don’t have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have faces, but arms.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the police
blotter of the local paper.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them.”
― From Open Veins of Latin America: Five Centuries of the Pillage of a Continent
Eduardo Galeano Los nadies Sueñan las pulgas con comprarse un perro y sueñan los nadies con salir de pobres, que algún mágico día llueva de pronto la buena suerte, que llueva a cántaros la buena suerte; pero la buena suerte no llueve ayer, ni hoy, ni mañana, ni nunca, ni en lloviznita cae del cielo la buena suerte, por mucho que los nadies la llamen y aunque les pique la mano izquierda, o se levanten con el pié derecho, o empiecen el año cambiando de escoba. Los nadies: los hijos de los nadies, los dueños de nada. Los nadies: los ningunos, los ninguneados, corriendo la liebre, muriendo la vida, jodidos, rejodidos:
Que no son, aunque sean.
Que no hablan idiomas, sino dialectos.
Que no profesan religiones, sino supersticiones.
Que no hacen arte, sino artesanía.
Que no practican cultura, sino folklore.
Que no son seres humanos, sino recursos humanos.
Que no tienen cara, sino brazos.
Que no tienen nombre, sino número.
Que no figuran en la historia universal, sino en la crónica roja de la prensa local.
Los nadies, que cuestan menos que la bala que los mata.
Eduardo Galeano – Les rien (Los nadies, 1989)
Les puces rêvent de s’acheter un chien et les rien rêvent de ne plus être pauvres, ils rêvent d’un jour magique où la chance tomberait du ciel, en pluie drue ; mais la bonne fortune n’est pas tombée hier, elle ne tombera pas aujourd’hui, ni demain, ni jamais, elle ne tombe même pas en pluie fine, bien que les rien la réclament, bien que leur main gauche les démange, bien qu’ils se tiennent debout sur leur seul pied droit, ou commencent l’année avec un balai neuf.
Les rien: les enfants de personne, maîtres de rien.
Les rien : les personne, les niés, ceux qui courent en vain, ceux qui se tuent à vivre, les baisés, les éternels baisés :
Qui ne parlent pas une langue mais un dialecte.
Qui n’ont pas de religion mais des superstitions.
Qui ne sont pas artistes mais artisans.
Qui n’ont pas de culture, mais un folklore.
Qui ne sont pas des êtres humains mais des ressources humaines.
Qui n’ont pas de visage mais des bras.
Qui n’ont pas de nom, mais un numéro.
Qui ne figurent pas dans l’histoire universelle mais dans la presse locale.
Les rien qui ne valent pas la balle qui les tue.
Eduardo Galeano (Montevideo, Uruguay 1940-2015) – Le livre des étreintes (El libro de los abrazos, 1989)
Carol Munder :
Photographer, she creates photographs and photogravures, frequently of fragments of sculpture from collections in museums in the United States and Europe.
LOS NADIES de Eduardo Galeano
Eduardo Germán María Hughes Galeano was born in Montevideo, Uruguay. His two family names were inherited from Welsh and Genoese great-grandfathers; the other two were from Germany and Spain. Galeano wrote under his maternal family name; as young man, he briefly wrote for an Uruguayan socialist publication, El Sol, signing articles as “Gius,” “a pseudonym approximating the pronunciation in Spanish of his paternal surname Hughes.” Galeano’s family belonged to the fallen Uruguayan aristocracy; Galeano himself went to work at fourteen, having completed just two years of secondary school.
He started his career as a journalist in the early 1960s as editor of Marcha, an influential weekly journal which had such contributors as Mario Vargas Llosa, Mario Benedetti, Manuel Maldonado Denis and Roberto Fernández Retamar. For two years he edited the daily Época and worked as editor-in-chief of the University Press.
ART & Thoughts 
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
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Posted by anisioluiz2008 | September 6, 2015, 10:11 am