Thursday, June 1, 2017

ISTVAN DABI

ISTVAN DABI
WHO IS STRANGER IS ALSO WRONG

on the streets of the big towns
crowd multitude of vehicles
noise clamour
inquiring looks
search the stranger
who often becomes invisible
and isn’t noticed more
the figure dressed differently
he can be not only from an other country
but also from another planet
on these streets
but the moment he sits down
on the only bench of a little park
children surround him
look curiously at him
touch his clothes
finger his hand and face
and run away laughing
soon the whole town knows
a stranger is sitting on the bench in a little park
he is in all different
has different features
his skin has different colour
his clothes are different
he is for a long time
only an unknown stranger
whom can be given a curious stare
soon he will be forgotten
amindst the own problems of the big town
but when somebody becomes suddenly unwell
somebody is killed
the stranger comes in mind
and everybody begins to fear him
because he’s different
and the different can be only wrong
for he isn’t like the others
because his skin
his hair
his eyes
have an other colour
he is thinner than who live here
he is taller than who live here
he is fatter than who live here
he is shorter than who live here
doesn’t know their language
it means he can be only wrong
everybody fears him
the children look at him not curiously
but with fear
the adults with hatred
with more and more hatred
the police hardly saved
the lonesome creature
sitting on the lonely bench of the little park
he isn’t a human more
but an unknown wrong
evil creature
and the police defends not him from
the raging men
but them from him
though he came here only
for studying the town
its inhabitants
their language
and customs
but being different
he had to escape from
the crowd getting wild
from the fear







XXX

from the love often
hatred comes into the world
furious hatred

who knows
if this hatred gives again
life to a true love?






xxx

I came home from another continent
without big suitcases
as if I came
only from the neighbour town
nobody believed me
that I have everything
what I saw
what I heard
what I felt
because in my too little head
I find place  for all
what I consider important

ISTVAN DABI
(Hungary)



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