A SHORT FAREWELL LETTER

---

To my Hebrew, my own sundered, grated Hebrew:
There, in my forgotten, distant childhood
You were placed inside my ear, imprinted
In my finger, poured upon my neck.
Now, goodbye: I am sinking, forgotten
You go on, not turning your head.
Fare you well, my bellwether.
Now lock on, my distant one, to
The neck of a tender boy, weigh heavily
On the heart of my successor.

© 2000 Elisha Porat

Translated from Hebrew by Asher Harris

Story Menu ¥ Poetry Menu ¥ THE WEB ¥¥ Silverhawk Graphics