Every family had one-
a black sheep- one whose name
started heads shaking, eyes rolling
who everyone wondered what would become of;
who was there at the table, grinning,
when you came home at Thanksgiving
from Yale, his eyes suspiciously pink;
who didn't blink
as Mom coolly
handed him the first turkey-heaped plate,
saying 'Pass this to your brother';
who, when you brought your fiancee home
(fellowship in cytogenetics)to meet your folks,
appeared with his Swabian live-in
who'd just that day made Spaetzel,
both just back from an anti-government rally;
who went to accounting school
when everyone else's kid went to Penn;
who took six years to finish
(excluding the one abroad) but did at length;
who, when the firm down-sized
gave you a job on his sea-weed farm
(who knew you could eat it) :
sent congrats when your wife left you
along with two tickets to the play-offs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem