I Am a Penniless Prophet
Yehuda Amichai
I am a penniless prophet, like a child who has
only two colors. I paint my life in war
and love, in noise and stillness.
The great prophets threw away half their prophecies
like the half-smoked cigarettes of a nervous
smoker1.
I pick them up and make them into penniless prophecies.
In the water towers the water is silent,
Words soak up "blood, sweat, and tears"
and are thrown into the garbage. Disposable words
like paper tissues. Disposable people,
that is their forever.
Words should have been empty
and narrow and hard, like a watershed,
should have flowed to both sides
for a new cycle.
I am a penniless prophet. I live within the hopes of others,
as within a beam of light not meant to light me up,
I cast the shadow of my image, of my likeness,
my body hides the famous lovely view.
I come between the seer and his vision.
I am a penniless prophet who comes home at noon
to eat and rest and, in the evening, sleep.
I get an annual vacation and sabbatical years
and soul insurance and a pension for old age.
I began my life so low.
When I go up high in the drunkenness of my soul,
when I reach the height of my visions,
I find myself with everyday people
who have children and jobs and family cares
and household chores. These are my visions. I am a penniless prophet.
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