From Scene One of “The Good Person of Szechwan” - John Willet translation
The Grandfather:
Once I believed intelligence would aid me
I was an optimist when I was younger
Now that I’m old I see it hasn’t paid me:
How can intelligence compete with hunger?
And so I said: drop it!
Like smoke twisting grey
Into ever colder coldness you’ll
Blow away.
The man:
I saw the conscientious man get nowhere
And so I tired the crooked path instead
But crookedness makes our sort travel slower.
There seems to be no way to get ahead.
Likewise I say: drop it!
Like smoke twisting grey
Into ever colder coldness you’ll
Blow away.
The niece:
+ The old, they say, find little fun in hoping.
+ Time’s what they need, and time begins to press.
+ But for the young, they say, the gates are open.
+ They open, so they say, on nothingness.
+ And I too say: drop it!
+ Like smoke twisting grey
+ Into ever colder coldness you’ll
+ Blow away.