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The Dark Ages are looming. Do you hear, feel it, person of feeling,
The whisper of the dust slowly creeping, the distant smell of Sulphur?—
And that anguish fading in the air, the heart and the…
The golden noon of the desert beats down silently
On the fields of sand.
Weary skies
Move palely
Over the stillness.
The sun’s step
Strides silently in golden shoes.
Camel footsteps cover the…
Summer is waning from the gold and from the copper
and violet
of leaf fall in gardens, and clouds at twilight
that drown in their own blood.
And the garden empties, only a few stragglers,
a few…
A season is set for everything, a time for every experience under heaven:
A time for being born and a time for dying,
A time for planting and a time for uprooting the planted;
A time for slaying…
21. On the second day of Rosh Hashanah, we pray as on the first day, except that the liturgical poems are different. [ . . . ]
22. And the Musaf service is as on the first day, except that we do not…
The one who whispers in automobiles
Causes streetlamps to tremble with thanksgiving as he kneels
And brings their harsh hauteur low as they boast
At the hour of perfect darkness
At the height of the…
Traveling and returning. In the
Dirt paths of her forehead
Railroad trains anchor, yellow
Carriages locomotive flowers
In the fields of liberated Europe
Traveling and returning. In the shadows
Betw…
I’m no longer the man that once was. I am the one I precede,
An approximate continuation of the selfsame countenance.
I continue walking without him. At times I run in the night,
Trying to break my…
The light passes through the curtain and brightens it, spreading a dull glow over the night-table and drawing a single shining line over the edge of the ashtray. The woman’s one eye follows it until…