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 smoker.

I pick them up and make them into penniless prophecies.

In the water towers the water is silent,

in empty pipes the un-water wails and growls.

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,

despair and hope, joy and sorrow, tranquillity and rage

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.