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The sea
tore a rib from its side
and said:
Go! Lie down there, be
a sign that I
am great and mighty.
Go
be a sign.
The canal
lies at my window,
speechless.
What can be sadder
than water
without…
I am the creeper, the wild one
Climbing your garden hedge,
Reaching, a red one, a wild one,
Up to your window ledge;
To inhale your dress’ rustling
As on your floor I lay,
To pale in the light of…
Who is to blame that I don’t see your tree,
Garden in snow, my garden in snow.
Who is to blame that I don’t see your tree—
When a woman goes out for a stroll in your snow,
Her bosom rising and…
And if Moyshe-Leyb, the poet, tells
That he saw Death on the high waves—
Just as he sees himself in a mirror,
And it was in the morning, around ten—
Will they believe Moyshe-Leyb?
And if Moyshe…