Poems and Translations
Poetry of Sholeh Wolpé <Back To Poems Home Page
The Outsider
I know what it’s like to be an outsider, a kharejee.
I know how English sounds
when every word is only music.
I know how it feels not
to be an American, an English, a French.
Call them
—Amrikayee, Ingleesee, Faransavi,
see them
see me as alien, immigrant, Iranee.
But I’ve been here so long.
they may call me American,
with an American husband
and American children…
But mark this— I do not belong anywhere.
I have an accent in every language I speak.
-- Sholeh Wolpé
(from Rooftops of Tehran, Red Hen Press, 2008)
