Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Moshe Dor

CITIZEN OF THE WORLD

First we talked about war and peace and how
power corrupts and what’s good for the nation.
then Baba washed her hair. Suddenly I knew
as she dried it, as the hair drier whooshed,
that I don’t give a fig for politics, but only
that ease that lets me watch Baba drying
her hair, as if time had not measure and she
was the world’s sole custodian, no borders,
no customs officials, and I’m there, sheltered
in the shadow of her hair, in the thick of it.


WERELDBURGER

Eerst hadden we het over oorlog en vrede en over
Macht die corrumpeert en wereldverbetering. Daarna
Ging Baba haar haar wassen. Ze was het
Aan het drogen toen ik me onder het gezoem
Van de haardroger realiseerde dat ik geen
Belang hecht aan volkeren en regeringen maar slechts
Aan de zelfbeschikking die mij in de gelegenheid stelt
Naar Baba te kijken die haar haar verzorgt
Alsof ze alle tijd van de wereld heeft
En de hele wereld van haar is en er geen
Landgrenzen noch immigratiebeambten zijn
Maar ik ben er, schuilend in de schaduw van haar haar.

אזרח העולם

תְּחִלָּה דִּבַּרְנוּ עַל מִלְחָמָה וְשָׁלוֹם וְעַל
הַשִּׁלְטוֹן הַמַּשְׁחִית וְתַקָּנַת הָאֻמָּה. אָז
חָפְפׇה בַּבָּה אֶת שְׂעָרָהּ. הִיא הָיְתָה
מְיַבֶּשֶׁת אוֹתוֹ, כַּאֲשֶׁר נוֹכַחְתִּי לָדַעַת,
לְזִמְזוּם מְיַבֵּשׁ-הַשֵּׂעָר, כִּי לֹא נֶחְשָׁבִים
בְּעֵינַי עַמִּים וּמִמְשָׁלִים אֶלׇּא רַק
הַהַגְדָּרָה הָעַצְמִית הַמְאַפְשֶׁרֶת לִי
לְהִתְבּוֹנֵנן בְּבַּבָּה הָעוֹשָׂה אֶת שְׂעָרָהּ
כְּאִלּו כָּל הַזְּמָן שֶׁבָּעוֹלָם לִרְשׁוּתָהּ
וְהָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ שֶׁלָּה וְאֵין בּוֹ
גְּבוּלוֹת לְאֻמִּיִּים וּפְקִידֵי-הֲגִירָה
וַאֲנִי שָׁם וְחוֹסֶה בְּצֵל שְׂעָרָהּ.
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CITIZEN OF THE WORLD

First we talked about war and peace and how
power corrupts and what’s good for the nation.
then Baba washed her hair. Suddenly I knew
as she dried it, as the hair drier whooshed,
that I don’t give a fig for politics, but only
that ease that lets me watch Baba drying
her hair, as if time had not measure and she
was the world’s sole custodian, no borders,
no customs officials, and I’m there, sheltered
in the shadow of her hair, in the thick of it.


CITIZEN OF THE WORLD

First we talked about war and peace and how
power corrupts and what’s good for the nation.
then Baba washed her hair. Suddenly I knew
as she dried it, as the hair drier whooshed,
that I don’t give a fig for politics, but only
that ease that lets me watch Baba drying
her hair, as if time had not measure and she
was the world’s sole custodian, no borders,
no customs officials, and I’m there, sheltered
in the shadow of her hair, in the thick of it.


Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère