Paul Polansky Sat In My Kitchen
The Serbian resident US poet and human rights activist Paul Polansky visited my humble flat some years back. As usual, my place was in a tip, but Paul passed no remarks. He works with the Kosovar IDP’s in Kosovska Mitrovica and I had the pleasure of returning his visit in Nis some years later. Alas, our mutual freind, Lubo, passed away since. This is a republishing of a poem I write at the time of Pauls visit to Tullamore.
Paul Polansky sat in my kitchen,
Eat pudding and drank black tea,
As if he were but a friend,
Who passing happened to be.
A man who worked so tirelessly
To help the Roma nation,
A far off name in a far off land,
Who for me was an inspiration.
And as we talked of politics
And culture, and history,
He was as I, and I as him,
As he chatted to Lubo and me.
Some say that God is far from this world
But I think that he is in
People like Polansky,
Though they’re human and subject to sin.
And you – and I – are like him!
Or can be, in what we do…
And we can find the that God himself
Resides within us too!
Everybody has a Kosovo
Your family may be your Roma nation…
Let God be seen in your deeds,
Let others find you an inspiration.
Pauls Books:
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