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I saw my father drowning
In surging days.
His weak hand gave a last white flutter
In the distance—
And he was gone.
I kept on alone
Along the shore,
A boy still,
With small, thin legs,
And have…
In history class
I draw a Latin-American moustache
On Titus Aspasianus;
Miriam, who under her flannel shirt
Is beginning to show development,
Is making vulgar contours
Onto the sculpture of his bust…
In winter, the rain beat down on the roof.
She said white was her favorite shade.
At hand he then gave her, his heart filled with joy,
A bunch of daffodils, fragrant and moist.
She laughed: “My dear…
Azrikam grew in his father’s house like a thorn, becoming uglier as he grew. Tamar, however, grew more beautiful day by day. The contrast between these two children was not only noticeable in their…
On a day transparent with light
like a landscape by Monet,
my childhood broke away
from a small Jewish town
and glided on ice
blue in the distance—
while a small cloud hovered in me
like a cloud of a…
The Hebrew sign in this photograph, from the 1927 municipal election in Tel Aviv in 1927, urges: “Vote gimel” (the Hebrew letter on the ballot representing a particular party or slate of candidates)…
Arnon Street is not the largest street in Tel Aviv. On the contrary, it is a small street, nearly an alleyway. There is very little traffic. A double-decker bus does not go through it, or any other…
Night ThoughtsThat night, I had the weirdest thoughts. I don’t know why, but suddenly I thought to myself how great it is for a boy to have a bed as comfortable as my own. He can lie in bed and get a…
How is a song born?
Like a baby.
At first it hurts
But then, it comes out
And everyone is happy
And suddenly—
How wonderful!
It’s walking
All on its own.
How is a song born?
Like…
It was noon and a small boy lay on the couch in the room. The woolly coverlet prickled his back, making him toss about uncomfortably. His eyes roved across the ceiling and down the blank walls to the…