Carpet Seller Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The Carpet Seller and Dali Lama

The carpet seller in Cascais is tall wears kaftan and his ebony
face looks as a relief of an Egyptian Farao…. Carries his carpets
on his forearm (like an offering) and show to tourists who sit
drinking cold beer at pavement cafes. When they ask how much
he quotes a price impossible high for his worn rugs, to be sure
no one buys because he doesn´t want to sell them. He just like to
walk around, it is his ways, when tired he sits on a bench folds
the rugs on his lap dreamily stroke them and smiles.
Where he goes when it rains I don´t know, perhaps he has got
a room somewhere, a bed, a book shelf and a postcard from
Senegal pinned on the wall. I noticed he wears solid boots as
Dali Lama does when flying around the world meeting famous
people, giggles and says simple things about life and freedom.
The carpet seller is not going home he has become a colourful
part of the townscape, and Dali Lama will not see Tibet again