Prince Didi Poem by Tamir Greenberg

Theft, drugs, drunkenness – that is the sum of me,
And some dank morning my fate will catch up with me.
Without a moment's doubt I'll stab a friend, a cop, a tart,
My blood streaming white. Nothing else soothes the heart.

But once I was a royal son, my sister - a princess.
Our father, from his wheeled throne, was sovereign, no less.
I'd long to hear the kingly voice, his word was my command,
Love flooding my young soul as I answered each demand.

Every day I washed him, cleaned the faeces, urine, blood,
And I'd hurry to the clinic if his medicine ran out.
And when a fury seized him, he'd hit me left and right,
As he bound my legs in chains and cursed the day I saw the light.

But even if I cried, I knew: that was the way things were.
The king my father loved me, I was his prince and heir.
The place was Katamon Daled, in the city they call blessed,
I was nine years old, and had a sister, a princess.

My mother, a queen of beauty, would make me tea and bread,
And if I came home late her anger sweetly filled my head.
My belly she rubbed with oil and she kissed my tender flesh,
I was infant, bridegroom, angel in the warmth of her embrace.



With her own body she shielded me against my father's rage,
Her face held only kindness, and soothed away my pain.
Oh mother, my queen, as once you were, your pure and simple heart!
See how your prince has been brought down, an addict on the street!

For my one and only sister, her black hair short and neat,
Grew ever more fair and womanly, her skin the purest white.
And I, whenever I watched her – my heart would swell with bliss:
Where in Katamon Daled was there beauty such as this?

But seeing her, all desired her. The officer, the cook, the cousin,
Yes, seeing her, all desired her, including the royal sovereign.
And many a stranger came knocking, like a beast pursuing its lust,
And the princess I so loved - she put on airs, began to boast.

She dyed her dark hair yellow, half her skirt she cut away,
She'd go out in the evening and would come back drunk next day.
Supplies of money were ample, though none knew where they began,
And my mother, sobbing and pleading, started reading from the Koran.

And through the neighbourhood rumours spread of disaster coming close.
And the wicked rejoiced, waiting for the fall of the royal house.
The place was Katamon Daled, in the city of holy renown.
By now I was fourteen and the king looked on with a silent frown.

I saw all this, and in my chest a fledgling bitterly cried,
But I only gave a gentle laugh, and when asked I replied:
Noble flows this blood of ours! Who'd dare have it defiled?
And who would harm a young princess? I'll shield her from the world!

But then the unthinkable happened. The queen went to Haifa one day,
Taking my fair sister with her, and nothing else for the way.
And the hills of Haifa have thickets, but there's not a ram to be heard,
And what took place there I don't know, but the angel never appeared.

Returning, she called me from afar, and clasped me to her breast,
But none would tell what had become of my sister the princess.
And suddenly I broke down and wept, but that's the way it is,
For mother alone was queen to me, how else could I be prince?

Stroke me gently, oh mother, stroke me, stroke me and be done,
For your hand anointed me prince, but by your hand my life's undone.
Though I'll always miss your warm embrace, I'll fear it too, no less,
For our home is shattered without her, my sister the princess.

But exiled there in Ramleh, know: a kingdom it was, in truth,
A kingdom, yes, though people laugh and say it was a myth.
And drugs will keep its beauty alive, till my short life is through,
For mine was a kingdom without the roses; everything there was true.