The Camel
Don't tell a camel about
need and want.
Look at the big
lips
pursed
in perpetual kiss,
the dangerous lashes
of a born coquette.
pursed
in perpetual kiss,
the dangerous lashes
of a born coquette.
The camel is an
animal
grateful for less.
grateful for less.
It keeps to itself
the hidden spring choked with grass,
the sharpest thorn
on the sweetest stalk.
the hidden spring choked with grass,
the sharpest thorn
on the sweetest stalk.
When a voice was heard
crying in the wilderness,
when God spoke
from the burning bush,
from the burning bush,
the camel was the only
animal
to answer back.
to answer back.
Dune on stilts,
it leans into the long horizon,
bloodhounding
it leans into the long horizon,
bloodhounding
the secret caches of
watermelon
brought forth like
manna
from the sand.
from the sand.
It will bear no false
gods
before it:
not the trader
who cinches its hump
with rope,
nor the tourist.
before it:
not the trader
who cinches its hump
with rope,
nor the tourist.
It has a clear sense of its
place in the world:
after water and
watermelon,
heat and light,
silence and science,
heat and light,
silence and science,
it is the last great
hope.
~ Wislawa Szymborska
~
(Miracle Fair: Selected Poems of
Wislawa Szymborska, translated by Joanna Trzeciak)
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