Just before or after
the american archaeologist photographer
allowed himself to be filmed
stealing bones wrapped in cloth
from a crack in a rock,
he 'stole' his helper,
asleep in his naga on a rock in Arnhem Land,
with his pipe,
and the tobacco with which he was paid, beside him.
61 years later in 2009,
the Smithsonian said an agreement said
a third of the bones are ours
but since we've actually got the lot
you can have what's yours.
They 'de-accessioned' their third as well
when a man from the Land
asked what would you do
if the Vietnamese
said something like that to you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very fine, what one gives, that he gets. I like it. respect others as one soul.