Saturday, March 17, 2012

Sderot



Sderot, A child's painting 

It took me twenty years to love 
this hole in the middle of nowhere. 
The cotton buds dispersed in a white flame 
and the wind meddled in the cypresses, 
until I saw for the first time, 
with an accurate eye, 
the unsophisticated buildings beneath the roof of clouds, 
until I heard 
the wonderful rumbling of the street. 
The last whisper expelled from waves of asphalt 
blended with the rustle of evening’s thud on the ground, 
like the voice of a forgotten woman that betrayed her 
and told the truth which she tried 
to conceal in her face. 

Years of erosion 
have taught the children to fondle the water in the stone, 
to splash in the puddles paper boats with farcical hope. 
The circus-like past of the girls blossomed with the hiking of a skirt 
when the crowed sawed him in two with its gaze. 
Only places bereft of love are entitled to absolute love. 


Shimon Adaf

Sunday, March 11, 2012

The Deathwatch Beetle




The deathwatch beetle
earned its name
not from its ugliness
or our terror
of insects
but simply because of the sound 
it makes, ticking.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

The Absence




“I speak to you across cities
I speak to you across plains

My mouth is upon your pillow
Both faces of the wall come meeting
My voice discovering you

I speak to you of eternity
O cities memories of cities
Cities wrapped in our desires
Cities come early cities come lately
Cities strong and cities secret
Plundered of their master’s builders
All their thinkers all their ghosts

Fields pattern of emerald
Bright living surviving
The harvest of the sky over our earth
Feeds my voice I dream and weep
I laugh and dream among the flames
Among the clusters of the sun

And over my body your body spreads
The sheet of its bright mirror.

Paul Eluard, “The Absence” (1942)