trans. German Jay Boggis • One must read every important writer once, in order to reach the point of being able to read him at all. • At the moment that we form an ideal the thought arises in God's mind to create it. • The comic is the continual negation of nature. • In…
trans. Chinese Robin D.S. Yeates Born between 834 and 836, Wei Chuang lived through the bloody collapse of the T'ang dynasty, which had witnessed the first great flowering of the art of poetry in China. He lost almost all the verse he had composed in the first fifty years of his life when, on January…
trans. French Lisa Sapinkopf The fire haunted our days and consumed them, Each greyer dawn its blade wounded time. The wind knocked death on our bedroom roofs, The cold never ceased encircling our hearts. It was a beautiful summer, faded, cracking and dark, You loved the softness of the summer rain And you loved death,…
Where are you tearing to, my poor heart, as if you were still looking for your incarnation? 1973/1977
A traditional theological question asks why God allows there to be evil in the world. I shall consider some untraditional answers. While for the religious this problem is a pressing one, the non-religious too can find it interesting, or at least a challenging intellectual exercise. The "problem of evil" is set up by the fact…
Oh, what fire in the broken bread, what pure Dawn in the dimmed stars! I see the day coming among the stones, You are alone, black-robed, in its whiteness.
I'm made up of cells: How far I am from their inhuman perfection 11/8/1976
trans. Yiddish Ruth Whitman 3 I'll set out for Beer Sheva and go to the Bedouins and ransom a donkey from them, no matter what it costs, Is it my fault that the slave trade still goes on with God's creatures in Beer sheva? I'll prepare an apartment for him, invent a name, tell him…
Here the restless voice consents to love The simple stone, The flagstones that time serves and delivers, The olive tree whose strength has the taste of dry stone. The footstep in its true peace. The restless voice Happy beneath the rocks of silence, And the infinite, indefinite reply Of the herd-bells, shore or death. Your…
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