“The Interne” gives voice to a hospital doctor who feels crushed by the power he holds. Hundreds of lives rest in his passive palm, and that burden seems to drain his own humanity. He describes himself being transmuted into cold metals—iron heart, copper brain, silver eyes, brass lips—as if constant exposure to life and death has made him feel numb and hardened. The patients become his children, and he is both mother and father to them, yet he can only watch them live or die. The mood is heavy, guilty, and almost helpless: the speaker is not proud of his authority but haunted by it, aware that a small movement of his finger can decide fragile fates.
The Interne — Summary
O the agony of having too much power! In my passive palm are hundreds of lives. Strange alchemy, they drain my blood. My heart becomes iron; my brain copper; my eyes silver; my lips brass. Merely by twitching a supple finger, I twirl lives from me, Strong-winged or fluttering and broken. They are my children: I am their mother and father. I watch them live and die.