
I expect everyone out there has at least heard of the Geneva Convention—when a country hosts the meetings that basically determine human rights standards for international law, it demands some respect. The first convention was first adopted as far back as 1864—there are four conventions in total. Read up, and respect the human rights of others, please. At the same time, I find their record on women’s suffrage a little odd, considering their concern for universal human rights: women were first granted the right to vote in some cantons in 1959. Suffrage at the federal level only came about in 1971, and—most astonishing—the last canton only allowed women to vote in 1990. Still, there have been women involved in the political process for a few decades now, and in 1998 Switzerland elected their first female president. These days the Swiss federal council is well-stocked with women. In 2002 Switzerland became a full member of the UN.

It hasn’t always had a chance to remain independent—like many other European nation, Switzerland fell victim to that pesky Napoleon’s grand ambitions, and Switzerland was conquered during the French Revolution. It took until 1815 for independence to be fully re-established, and, as mentioned above, since then Switzerland has lived war-free.
Oh, and boarding schools. Know anyone who attended a Swiss boarding school? I do.
Another friend who’s pursuing her PhD in psychology desperately wants to get to Switzerland—there’s a real concentration of psychologists there.
And a poem? But of course! Another found in the wonderful New European Poets, but the German-speaking Swiss poet, Urs Allemann. Enjoy!
For the Lyre
The hand that reaches into your breast and seizes your heart
to rip it out falls off. It’s yours. You bend over
to pick it up. Then your heart falls out. We throw
ourselves to the ground into Ours, to beat, clap, sink in
the hearts hands teeth. Choke it down. As you plunge,
your head is already sliding off your shoulders and climbing upward
turning inside out like it is not imaginable
but sayable. Some think blood, too,
has flowed there. Far away weeping. Meekly
making sounds, the strewn-everywhere, the bones of
others. If by chance Orpheus arrives
I’d sing something for him, the flesh-
eating lyre, push his share of the handed-down
across to him.
—Urs Allemann
translated from the German by Elizabeth Oehlkers Wright
from New European Poets
No comments:
Post a Comment