The Shawl
Translation from the CD "VISITKORT"
This is a true tale from a Stockholm bus:
My friend in usual Monday grayish mood
No not the best of days, to say the least
But then again you must endure and wrap
yourself in sparks and larks, her daughter´s Pa-
lestinian shawl, a black and pink one, like
all teenies wear, if you yourself feel gray
then borrow feathers from another bird!
But anyway, here comes this man with wife
behind, he passes by and turns around
and pukes out loud for all to hear, how vile!
That shawl must be the ugliest on earth!
In such a situation, what to do?
In half a second it will be too late
to give some mouth, but dignity, at least,
you must retain and he shall not escape
or get away with this along with wife
pretending nought to see and nought to hear
Now turn your heads around, the pair of you,
thought Anna, for that is her real name,
my friend who was exposed to such a pig.
She stares for minutes at him and his wife,
they´re seemingly of upper middle class,
well mannered, church of Sweden, with exams
from upper middle colleges, consul-
tants, tenants, two point eighteen kids,
they know exactly what is proper, what
is out of order between people, but
perhaps their day was also bad, their son
had got himself expelled, became a ter-
rorist, set fire to headmaster´s wig...
Well then you may just understand this man
to be uncomfortable seeing a shawl
of Palestinian fashion and the one
who wears it has to carry all the blame
be smeared in puke and xenophobia
There always is an explanation, now
she softly looks again, feeling like Je-
sus, almost, carrying this pair´s suffering
upon herself, (as if she didn´t have
enough of it) But now he cannot stand
the sight of Anna´s mild and querying eyes
trying to share a thought with these poor two.
His features crack, distort, his evil child
within appears, he shrinks, becomes the age of two
sticks out his tongue and sneers a Boo!
