Indochina, Capa jumps Jeep, two feet creep up the road
To photo, to record meat lumps and war,
They advance as does his chance – very yellow white flash.
A violent wrench grips mass, rips light, tears limbs like rags,
Burst so high finally Capa lands,
Mine is a watery pit. Painless with immense distance
From medic from colleague, friend, enemy, foe, him five yards from his leg,
From you Taro.
Do not spray into eyes – I have sprayed you into my eyes.
3:10 pm, Capa pends death, quivers, last rattles, last chokes
All colours and cares glaze to grey, shrivelled and stricken to dots,
Left hand grasps what the body grasps not – le photographe est mort.
3.1415, alive no longer my amour, faded for home May of ‘54
Doors open like arms my love, Painless with a great closeness
To Capa, to Capa Capa dark after nothing, re-united with his leg and with you, Taro.
Do not spray into eyes – I have sprayed you into my eyes.
Hey Taro!
Gerda Taro was a war photojournalist in the late 40's/early 50's. She died in her line of work when a tank collided into the side of a car she was riding on. The other important name in this song was Gerda's romantic interest, and colleague, Robert Capa. During the First Indochina War, Capa retreated from his Jeep in a hostile war zone to take pictures. He stepped on a landmine however, which blew apart his left leg. He was taken to a medical station where he died with his camera in his hand.
