Tourist, don't take my picture
Don't take my picture, tourist
I'm too ugly
Too dirty
Too skinny
Don't take my picture, white man
Mr. Eastman won't be happy
I'm too ugly
Your camera will break
I'm too dirty
Too black
Whites like you won't be content
I'm too ugly
I'm gonna crack your kodak
Don't take my picture, tourist
Leave me be, white man
Don't take a picture of my burro
My burro's load's too heavy
And he's too small
And he has no food here
Don't take a picture of my animal
Tourist, don't take a picture of the house
My house is of straw
Don't take a picture of my hut
My hut's made of earth
The house already smashed up
Go shoot a picture of the Palace
Or the Bicentennial grounds
Don't take a picture of my garden
I have no plow
No truck
No tractor
Don't take a picture of my tree
Tourist, I'm barefoot
My clothes are torn as well
Poor people don't look at whites
But look at my hair, tourist
Your kodak's not used to my color
Your barber's not used to my hair
Tourist, don't take my picture
You don't understand my position
You don't understand anything
About my business, tourist
"Gimme fie cents"
And then, be on your way, tourist.
© Félix Morisseau-Leroy
Translated from Haitan Creole by Jack Hirschman
6 comments:
immediately as i began reading this it dawned on me,, that i have never thought about how people feel being photo fodder for tourists shots of how "awful" life is somewhere else... i am never, sadly a tourist,, but if i ever am,, i will remember this...
wow, this really hit home, I don't take photos of people from close up when travelling, I've always thought that was intrusive, but I've taken plenty from afar.... A very cleverly constructed, powerful poem, thanks Rethabile.
Dear Rethabile,
Greetings!
Thank you for introducing your readers to the poetry of Felix.
I now plan to do the same.
1Love,
Geoffrey
paisley,
few folks do think about the people part of 'natives'. Cheers.
jo,
I avoid photographing people, too, because I'm chicken enough not to want to ask for permission.
Geoffrey,
Khotso to you. Félix is a bad brother, and I discovered him at your place. You can of course present him better, having known the man hisself. Can't wait.
genius...and simply stated in the vernacular of the time, tempo, and circumstance of one whose picture is pasted in an album of a tourist...and forgotten...
lol! I love this. This is nice. It has the rhythm of a folk song or Blues tune. Yes, this goes well with the photo on my blog.
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