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The Mother enters, carrying the dead Child in her arms; approaches the pile.The Mother:Hello, dead children.I brought my son here.He’s dead. He’ll lie with you.Dead Children:You brought…
O mother
what have I left out
O mother
what have I forgotten
O mother
farewell
with a long black shoe
farewell
with Communist Party and a broken stocking
farewell
with six dark hairs on the wen of…
Snow has fallen, with no light. A month
has gone by now or two, since autumn in its monkish cowl
brought tidings my way, a leaf from Ukrainian slopes:
“Remember it’s wintry here too, for the…
I always thought
I had been here before.
Each year of my patched-up life
I mended the fabrics
of my decrepit, tattered world.
In memory I recognized faces and smiles,
even my father and mother…
Even after the mourning period was over, when the flat was finally empty and my father and I locked the door and were alone together, we hardly talked to one another. Except about the most essential…
To the sacred memory of dear Shmulik and his comrades who fell in the battle to liberate Yeḥi‘amHe rose from the bed shading his eyes with his hands as if it was light although it was still dark. His…
After I published my son’s literary estate in a book, I still had a few scraps of writing and documents of various kinds that I didn’t know how to put together with everything that seemed clear and…
Now in the suburbs and the falling light
I followed him, and now down sandy road
Whiter than bone-dust, through the sweet
Curdle of fields, where the plums
Dropped with their load of ripeness, one by…
Crags in the mountains facing us
are like bereaved mothers
who long ago altered their image:
dew does not slake them,
the sun does not gild them.
—How terrible their silence
and where can we flee?—
A…
When an Israeli soldier dies in the line of duty, three officers come to your house and sit in your living room and tell you about it. Imagine how many times that scene has been played out in Israeli…