לא יצאנו ממצרים We Never Left Egypt

לא יצאנו ממצרים

 (לבניי ובנותיי)
 
לא יצאנו ממצרים
עבדים היינו
ועבדים נשארנו
ואין לחם
לא כי מהרנו
כי אין כסף
לקנות במכלת
 
פרעה
עדין חי ומושל בנו
הוא וסריסו ושלישיו
באוצר
 
העבדות מודרנית
הרעב אותו רעב
 
אמרת לא יהיה עוד
מבול
(אני באמת לא מצליח להבין למה,
אולי שיה לך לשקל את זה
שוב מחדש) אז לפחות
תרעיד את הארץ
תקרע את הים
 
אשה ישנה על ספסל
תחת שמיך מעשי אצבעותיך ירח
גבר מחפש ארוחה
כמו חתול בהרמת זבל
 
עפר ואשפתות
ואין תקומה
 
לא יצאנו ממצרים
ואני לא מתכון לשקר
.לבני יב ולי
 

We Never Left Egypt

(To my sons and my daughters)
 
We never left Egypt
We were slaves
And we’ve stayed slaves
With no bread
Not because we had to hurry
But because there is no cash
To spend in the corner shop
 
Pharaoh
Is still alive and rules us
Him, his eunuch and his trusted three
In the counting house
 
The slavery is modern
The hunger the same hunger
 
You said there won’t be another
Flood
(Frankly, I don’t get why
If it’s all the same to you, consider that
Again) so at least
You’d shake the earth
You’d split the sea
 
An old woman on a bench
Under your heaven, the work of your fingers: a moon
A guy looking for a meal
Like a cat on the rubbish heap
 
Dust and dung
And no revival
 
We never left Egypt
And I don’t intend to lie
To my sons and my daughters
 

We did not leave Egypt (To my sons and my daughters)

(To my sons and my daughters)
 
We did not leave Egypt
We were slaves
And we stayed slaves
And no bread
Not because we hurried
Because no money
To buy in the grocery shop
 
Pharaoh Still lives and rules over us
He and his eunuch and his three
In the store house
 
The slavery is modern
The hunger the same hunger
 
You said there will not be another
Flood
(I in truth do not manage to understand why,
Maybe it is equal to you to weigh this
Again from new) so at least
You will shake the earth
You will tear the sea.
 
An old woman on a bench
Under your heaven the work of your fingers a moon
A guy looks for a meal
Like a cat on the rubbish heap
 
Dust and dung
And no revival
 
We did not leave Egypt
And I do not mean to lie
To my sons and daughters.
 

This poem plays on, and argues with, the traditional telling of the Passover story. As our translator, Micha Meyers’s explained, the celebration of Passover, detailing the Jews escape from Egypt and freedom from slavery, is structured around answering four questions posed by the youngest child present at the seder. But whilst the festival aims to tell the story of freedom and emancipation, Hasan turns this on its head, claiming that one form of slavery has been swapped for another. The poem heckles God…

Edward Doegar

Original Poem by

Roy Hasan

Translated by

Micha Meyers with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Hebrew

Country

Israel