Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Mourid Barghouti

I Have No Problem

I look at myself:
I have no problem.
I look all right
and, to some girls,
my grey hair might even be attractive;
my eyeglasses are well made,
my body temperature is precisely thirty seven,
my shirt is ironed and my shoes do not hurt.
I have no problem.
My hands are not cuffed,
my tongue has not been silenced yet,
I have not, so far, been sentenced
and I have not been fired from my work;
I am allowed to visit my relatives in jail,
I’m allowed to visit some of their graves in some countries.
I have no problem.
I am not shocked that my friend
has grown a horn on his head.
I like his cleverness in hiding the obvious tail
under his clothes, I like his calm paws.
He might kill me, but I shall forgive him
for he is my friend;
he can hurt me every now and then.
I have no problem.
The smile of the TV anchor
does not make me ill any more
and I’ve got used to the Khaki stopping my colours
night and day.
That is why
I keep my identification papers on me, even at
the swimming pool.
I have no problem.
Yesterday, my dreams took the night train
and I did not know how to say goodbye to them.
I heard the train had crashed
in a barren valley
(only the driver survived).
I thanked God, and took it easy
for I have small nightmares
that I hope will develop into great dreams.
I have no problem.
I look at myself, from the day I was born till now.
In my despair I remember
that there is life after death;
there is life after death
and I have no problem.
But I ask:
Oh my God,
is there life before death?

IK HEB GEEN PROBLEMEN

Als ik naar mezelf kijk . . . ik heb geen problemen
ik zie er goed uit. Voor sommige meisjes
ben ik aantrekkelijk met mijn grijze haar
mijn bril is perfect
mijn temperatuur is precies zevenendertig graden
mijn overhemd is gestreken, mijn schoenen doen geen pijn
ik heb geen problemen

Mijn handen zijn niet gebonden. Mijn tong zwijgt nog niet
tot nu ben ik niet veroordeeld
of heb ik ontslag gekregen
ik mag mijn familieleden in de gevangenis bezoeken
en ook die in het buitenland zijn begraven
ik heb geen problemen

Het verbaasde mij niet dat mijn vriend een hoorn op zijn hoofd kreeg
ik houd van zijn gave de staart onder zijn kleren te verstoppen
en bewonder de rust van zijn klauwen
hij kan me doden, maar ik zal hem vergeven. Hij is mijn vriend
hij zal me soms pijn doen
ik heb geen problemen

De lach van de omroeper op de televisie maakt me niet ziek
ik ben eraan gewend dat mannen in kaki mensen als ik aanhouden
’s nachts en overdag daarom
heb ik mijn persoonsbewijs bij me tot in het zwembad
ik heb geen problemen

Mijn dromen namen gisteravond de nachttrein
ik kon geen afscheid van ze nemen
ik kreeg bericht dat de trein in een onbegroeide vallei was ontspoord
(van alle passagiers had alleen de machinist het overleefd!)
God zij geprezen. Ik huilde niet lang
ik heb kleine nachtmerries
ik zal die, zo God wil, tot grote dromen maken
ik heb geen problemen

Vanaf mijn geboorte kijk ik naar mezelf
als ik wanhoop, denk ik
er is leven na de dood
er is leven na de dood, ik heb geen problemen

Maar ik vraag: O God!
is er leven vóór de dood?

Close

I Have No Problem

I look at myself:
I have no problem.
I look all right
and, to some girls,
my grey hair might even be attractive;
my eyeglasses are well made,
my body temperature is precisely thirty seven,
my shirt is ironed and my shoes do not hurt.
I have no problem.
My hands are not cuffed,
my tongue has not been silenced yet,
I have not, so far, been sentenced
and I have not been fired from my work;
I am allowed to visit my relatives in jail,
I’m allowed to visit some of their graves in some countries.
I have no problem.
I am not shocked that my friend
has grown a horn on his head.
I like his cleverness in hiding the obvious tail
under his clothes, I like his calm paws.
He might kill me, but I shall forgive him
for he is my friend;
he can hurt me every now and then.
I have no problem.
The smile of the TV anchor
does not make me ill any more
and I’ve got used to the Khaki stopping my colours
night and day.
That is why
I keep my identification papers on me, even at
the swimming pool.
I have no problem.
Yesterday, my dreams took the night train
and I did not know how to say goodbye to them.
I heard the train had crashed
in a barren valley
(only the driver survived).
I thanked God, and took it easy
for I have small nightmares
that I hope will develop into great dreams.
I have no problem.
I look at myself, from the day I was born till now.
In my despair I remember
that there is life after death;
there is life after death
and I have no problem.
But I ask:
Oh my God,
is there life before death?

I Have No Problem

I look at myself:
I have no problem.
I look all right
and, to some girls,
my grey hair might even be attractive;
my eyeglasses are well made,
my body temperature is precisely thirty seven,
my shirt is ironed and my shoes do not hurt.
I have no problem.
My hands are not cuffed,
my tongue has not been silenced yet,
I have not, so far, been sentenced
and I have not been fired from my work;
I am allowed to visit my relatives in jail,
I’m allowed to visit some of their graves in some countries.
I have no problem.
I am not shocked that my friend
has grown a horn on his head.
I like his cleverness in hiding the obvious tail
under his clothes, I like his calm paws.
He might kill me, but I shall forgive him
for he is my friend;
he can hurt me every now and then.
I have no problem.
The smile of the TV anchor
does not make me ill any more
and I’ve got used to the Khaki stopping my colours
night and day.
That is why
I keep my identification papers on me, even at
the swimming pool.
I have no problem.
Yesterday, my dreams took the night train
and I did not know how to say goodbye to them.
I heard the train had crashed
in a barren valley
(only the driver survived).
I thanked God, and took it easy
for I have small nightmares
that I hope will develop into great dreams.
I have no problem.
I look at myself, from the day I was born till now.
In my despair I remember
that there is life after death;
there is life after death
and I have no problem.
But I ask:
Oh my God,
is there life before death?
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
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