Poesia kaiera
Erabiltzeko moduak
Gas-ganberan hil zen aita,
arrain biluzi urdina, arrastaka,
Barruan zeraman judua dutxan ezin irentsita.
Sendagileen esperimentuetan hil zen ama,
txerri bat sartu zioten umetokian:
hil egin zen txerria, eta ama itsutu,
galdu egin zituen bihotzeko barrukiak.
Ni bakar bakarrik atera nintzen aurrera,
goseak akabatzen iraun nuen, gorpu bat
edo bi janez.
Amerikarrak etorri ziren gero, kakahuete-gurinarekin.
Oporraldi bat bezala irentsi nuen.
Denak maitatu nituen, “judu urdanga”
esaten zidan ofiziala barne;
nahiz eta sartu, sartu egiten zidan,
nahiz eta hamaika urte besterik ez izan.
Gero, komentura joan nintzen
Jesus etxekotu batekin maitemintzera;
hanka egin behar izan nuen, ordea,
griskara bihurtzen ari nintzelako
—ilea, begiak, sudurra, ahoa, aurpegia—.
Sagu bat nintzen,
ene Cheddar gazta-tranparen bila.
Sekula ez nuen negarrik egin.
Kasu horri!
Sekula ere ez.
Hurrena: aebak,
bala-zulorik gabeko
eraikin dibertigarri, gurinezkoak,
bonbaz josi gabekoak inoiz.
Baina kartzelak bai, badituzte,
eta haietako baterantz
ziztuan ni.
Han putekin egon nintzen ziegan,
barroteei helduta,
gauza handirik esan gabe ez bada:
“Judua naiz.
Konpon dezakezue hori nolabait?”
[1974]
Uses
Papa died in the gas chamber, / slipping blue as an undressed minnow, / gulping in the shower to wash the Jew off him. / Mama died in the medical experiments, / they had stuffed a pig into her womb / and the pig died, and after she lost her vision, / she lost her heart stuffing. // I, alone, came through, / starved but making it by eating / a body or two. // Then came the Americans with peanut butter. / I gobbled it up like a vacation. / I loved them all, even the GI who said “Jew pig” / and put it into me, into me, / though I was only eleven. // Later I joined a convent, / to fall in love with a Jesus home, / but I had to leave, / for I was turning gray — hair, eyes, nose, mouth, face. / I was a mouse / searching for its cheddar trap. // I never cried. / Remember that! / I never cried. // Then the U.S. / and its funny cities of butter / buildings without bullet holes / or bombed-out towns. / But it had jails / and I flew into one / and stood in the cell with the whores / and hung onto the bars, / saying nothing except / “I am a Jew. / Can’t you do something with it?”