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This day is our war, my sister,
So I am far away from here.
Please keep our rendez-vous
In our tiny kitchen
Before my usual chair
Fill a glass of wine
And treat it as if I am
Sitting across from…
Shlomo reclines within his shrine
Woe to my days, woe to my nights
Everyone knows how he is
Nobody knows about me
Woe to my days, woe to my nights
As if it means something to anybody.
If I have a…
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…
Let the sun come up today,
Let the morning shine,
All the prayers and plaintive words,
Won’t bring us back to life.
For we whose light is darkened now,
Are covered by the dust,
The bitter tears…
When spring is asleep it palely awakens
In fields of fire the final battle will cease
And a wonderful morning from valley to hillside
Will rise up in singing and in joy.
The sun will stand still…
Had I fastened
The cradle on a rafter,
And rocked it—and rocked it.
My little son, my Yankl.
But the house has vanished
Into a fiery dome,
How then can I rock
My little son, my own?
Had I…
If I was indeed engaged in my youth with singing and the musical art, surely it is the most magnificent of the arts, and I have elucidated its beneficial effects in the Abir Ya‘akov in this commentary…
May the language of truth be established forever, or as the poet …
Dramatic poem by Angiolo Orvieto Music by Giacomo Orefice
