One morning he comes to you
Introducing himself as the journalist from the city
And he comes to interview you about this little conflict
About you and the mayor of this town
What can you tell him, except the truth
In good faith you say you do not want to be popular
And be likable by the mayor’s taste like you do not want
To be his stamp pad maintaining your independent stand
On the issue of life and death of his enemies
On the issue of you as the pillar of justice and the mayor
As another pillar of his own, vis-à-vis the people’s will
The voice of this miniature democratic society
He jots down every word that you say as he asks
More questions which you answer with all candid honesty
Like you have been this judge for the past 12 years
And the mayor simply dislikes your being passive
To his programs for justice (in his subtle way
Of telling you what really pleases him)
You tell you live in peace, in independence
Free from any dictates, except your conscience
Tomorrow morning the paper headlines read
“Town Judge calls Mayor a Stamp Pad! ”
Your wife asks you what is this all about?
And you are silent; you sip your coffee carefully
You read the paper again, you breathe some more
You are silent than ever, you ponder some more
These powerful people around you do not deserve the
Dignity of your answer and you do not want to see the face
Of that journalist again; He successfully made you feel
That in this town, honesty can be very serious offense.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem