• Fri. Feb 23rd, 2024

Poem: Second-generation Immigrant

ByElham Khosravipour

Dec 5, 2023
winter tree surrounded by snow in Germany

I was born here; 

I went to school here; 

I have the maroon coloured passport that says 

Nationality: German.

German is my mother tongue, 

but it is not my mother’s tongue 

nor my father’s. 

So, I guess I’m not German German. 

Though I sing “Germany is my fatherland,” 

It is not my father’s land. 

But I’ve never been to my father’s land 

and in my mother’s, I’m white-washed. 

White-washed but not quite white enough. 

Not dark enough for my father’s land, 

but not white enough for my fatherland. 

So, I guess I’m not German German. 

I vote in this country;

I pay taxes in this country. 

I’m sorry that my ancestors never shed blood for this country, 

but I would. 

I would shed my blood, 

but that blood would not contain any German DNA. 

So, I guess I’m not German German. 

So, as long as my eyes are a little narrower, 

my nose a little larger, 

my lips a little fuller, 

and my skin a little browner. 

I guess I’ll always just be German 

with the bitter aftertaste that follows

tree in a south german winter landscape” by christian moser is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0