For the fifth year you come to us
lugging a burlap sack on your back, barefoot,
on your face the sadness of heavens
and the pain of Hussein.
We’ll receive you at every airport
with flower bouquets,
and drink -- to your health -- rivers of wine.
and recite insincere poems in your presence,
and you’ll get used to us
and we to you.
We ask you to spend here your summer vacation,
like a tourist,
and we’ll offer you a royal suite
we’ve prepared -- for you.
You may enjoy the night and the neon lights
and the rock and roll and the porno and the jazz --