Dèr Mouw - I'm Brahman...

I’m Brahman. But we’re stuck without a maid.

Around the house I just do what I can:

throw out my dirty water, fill the can;

but have no dish-cloth; mess things I’m afraid.

She says that this is no work for a man.

And I feel self-reproach and helplessness

when she spoils my long-spoilt unhandiness

again with what she’s conjured in the pan.

And always I’ve revered Him, who displays

magical immanence – world, knowledge, art:

when she gives me my porridge and I gaze

on fingertips that are all cracked and hard,

the selfsame burning adoration stands

for Sun, Kant, Bach, as for her calloused hands.