Poetry

Where are you tearing to, my poor heart, as if you were still looking for your incarnation? 1973/1977

trans. Hebrew Ruth Whitman —You're behaving like a child, you are. —I know. Thank you.      I am a child; and that other child who blew up our            Zelda-tank,      how old do you think he was? That wild beast.      It's lucky that with only one hand I could still empty a            full round at…

trans. French Norman Shapiro 1. The Little Pup Little pup sat eyeing bone, One he used to call his own. Burly hound came swaggering up, Snatching bone from little pup. Sky watched hound dine on said victual: Didn't care one whit or tittle. Pup's still little, as before; Hound's still hungry, wants some more. 2….

I'm made up of cells: How far I am from their inhuman perfection 11/8/1976

September 1982 (in connection with non- standard and negligent building in Lebanon) And it so happened that a soldier in the reserves      accidentally            pulled the latchet of a cannon — and a multi-story building five kilometers away fell heavily      on its occupants, eighty-five casualties. Only a few were rescued from the      ruins: an old…

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,…

Remember that I'm your friend: you can tell me everything. And you can tell me everything, too. I'll remember that, stone. 7/25/1977

trans. Hebrew Ruth Whitman At five o'clock I'm going to meet a man at four o'clock a woman rises in me to go to the meeting. At five o'clock I go to meet a man and a woman. The man is new to my hands. Amazes all my memories. The woman is black. And seven…

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.