The Leavetaking
We Embrace each other,
My hands touch the rich material
Yours touch the shoddy.
The embrace is hasty
You are on your way to a good meal
The executioner's men are after me.
We speak of the weather
And of our enduring friendship.
Anything else would be too bitter.
Emigrant's Lament
I earned my bread and but and ate it just like you.
I am a doctor; or at least I was.
The colour of my hair, shape of my nose
Cost me my home, my bread and butter too.
She who for seven years had slept with me
My hand upon her lap, her face against my face
Took me to court. The cause of my disgrace:
my hair was black. So she got rid of me.
But I escaped at night-time through a wood
(For reasons of my mother's ancestry)
To find a country that would be my host.
Yet when I asked for work it was no good
You are impertinent, they said to me.
I'm not impertinent I said; I'm lost.
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