The Watermelons of Kakun
At times it is a sweet treasure, dewy, green
opening at night in the fields of Kakun;
at times it is a bloody treasure seen
sprouting from the reddening earth;
or the humps of a camel team
swinging to and fro, moving up and down.
There, these many days I dream:
diving in my slumber as my ears fill
with the sound of bells ringing in the long-necked beasts.
Bloody land moves under me, shifts,
clinging to me like an unwanted gift:
I hear the yellow-toothed mouth emit a grunt,
I see hands hastily cleaned of the hunt,
swelling in the night, dribbling in the heat
transparent bubble-like objects that grow green and sweet.
Perhaps my fears these many days will be expunged,
the ones that reemerge from forgetfulness, not fazed
even after so many many days.
©2007 Elisha Porat
Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner