Translated from the Hebrew by Riva Rubin
I saw a man stooped and
. . . . . . . . . . .
not shouting but
drinking brackish water
lying with his woman
drawing from his ribs
with tender dream hands
a glinting splinter dulled
by the dust of the fire smell
eating his bread with brimstone
waving his legs in farewell
to all who remembered him:
smiling at his punishment
that comes unsurprising, dreamily, if foreseen.
± ± Email Elisha ± ± © Elisha Porat |