The Magma in the Heart of Tuareg Poem by Volker Braun

The Magma in the Heart of Tuareg

Rating: 3.5


With a German passport landing at Agadir
In the winter sun: a change of identity
Slaves are watching me and thieves
Prowling about my feet, who am I
A nomad in the 4-star hotel, room with a view of the sea
I can choose my season
LEISURE IS EPIDEMIC even in the gear
Of a tourist I´m on the dole and hanging around
In the last-minute lands LIFELONG
The throw-away man, only COCA COLA needs me
The tea-drinkers of Marrakesh have still to be converted
To the global gods, and I
No longer driven to find the place and the solving word
I belong to all the useless peoples

translated by David Constantine

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