| Asher Reich ISRAEL THE BOOK When I moved recently, I suddenly found My forgotten Bible: A Bar-Mitzvah present, the only thing I took with me when I deserted the home of my youth For forty years in the desert. I leafed through the book: some pages stuck together As in a classified secret. cain, of course, is still murdering his brother For every murder, two other brothers sprout up in the field. Goliath takes off his armor and goes out to lunch From his eternal battle with the little Israelite. The Philistine's head is already adorned with rubber bullets Like kinky curls. The first astronaut, Elijah, shoots up in a storm to heaven in a regular launch. Locally made UFO's sail in the skies of Ezkiel. I continued skimming: the pages had already blackened with blood, Gory wars that continue on their own. Only the sins remain like white trains. Prophets Disappear from the book to prophesize far away. Kings Escaped to the Diaspora. Angels flew back to the caves of the firman From his couch. God sadly ascended and turned out our light. SHEET translated from the Hebrew by Vivian Eden Pure and white as I am have no part in the dark plots Of lovers. All that I feel on my surface will come from flesh or Through sweat and sperm in the transparency of nighttime. A dumb voice Adhered to me like tears. A hair sheds onto me. Air implodes into me I crease and soil easily and will also hold no Grudge. For this is my surpose: much life spills into me And from material like me they make flags of surrender or devotion. Those who lie on me to sleep, to rest, to dream and to be cured Like those who come to me in love's pleasure and sigh rest From the release that is in passion always conceal why they would conceal, So I won't see their lives precisely realized. The skin of time Shines in me and passes over me musing on the ceiling's changing Colors. And when I am repete with worids Living and bright in my infinite two meters, Suddenly I'm gathered me up, folded and thrown Into the dizzying laundry which burns my skin and innards Legally to erase it all, there the little I knew is wrung from me And I'm like an infant unfurled to the world anew Pure and white as I am And without any memory. MY JERUSALEM translated from the Hebrew by Judith Dickman In my Jerusalem Quite, quite. The evening is really evening. The city yawns good night. And the night is white as a crow Dressed up as a dove. My Jerusalem is sleeping. Quite. Quite. She's tired. Let there be stillness. Above the central post office Through the antenna forest I see two young stars. They grasp each other's hand And march silently, silently Like a pair of elves in a fairy tale. Quite. Quite. In my Jerusalem. POWER FAILURE Look at the candle: above its changing form in my room There looms a sight of unheard beauty A single sentinel Clearing a space I will soon inhabit If only to endure the towering darkness until it grows silent I'll wait here, I wont budge for I'll behold The sounds of the candle The light slowly worms through the rustling gloom Tonight like a fisherman I cast patience Toward the pedestrians if they behold The wax puddle gleaming at the morning Like a socket in the wall that will undoubtedly connect To the sun's cord: our soul's light. © All Copyright, 2000,
Asher Reich. |