If you wish to contact me, or send in submissions, please do.  Send to the address posted below. Thanks!

Email Address

BACK TO MAIN PAGE
Yaheil Hazak Poetry 
          Home |More Poets | Contact

Charlotte's Web Page
MONUMENTS (2)
translated from the Hebrew by Tama Hazak

What had flamed up in a leaping swiftness was slowly extinguished by morning
And almost forgotten
Since then I live at a shout's distance from the village navel.

And the shout moves on tracks there and back like the law of nature
And its magnet from one night to another,
Leaving lashes of flesh and blood on the blazing iron
By and by I shrivel to the size of a shout, I even
Want to be a bird and fly or
Be a seaman of songs
And I stay --
The same tracks
No more lessons no more speeches
Only a shout lost in all the distances of the wind
That morning flamed up when I was born
In that village now at the distance
Of a shout.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



MONUMENTS (1)
translated from the Hebrew by Tama Hazak


Life~sated rage~sated fear~sated
Still standing erect, a "turia" beside him
Calling the trees by their names and no reply.
Even they. What should he do. He'll tear a couch~grass
And wave it as his last flag and start
Counting. Maybe
A Russian curse would help. He used to seek
Other names for God. They'd dried up in his mouth before
He spat them to the ground.
Maybe he loved them as manure because of the smell.
Later he curses, already dried dung, slowly became
Road marks. What road. Was there one or not, he tried to walk
Till he stopped burned~out on the spot
Life~sated rage~sated fear~
Sated, by the "turia" building himself like a tomb stone
For himself and for the road which fiiled his mouth
Because of what

Translator's Note: Turia is a kind of Israeli mattock.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



ROOTS
Translated from the Hebrew by Jaffa Weisman
 
Ask them to return,
Cousins, children to one father are we
Ask them to return, praying thinly
Whispering the earthbound sounds, beg
Them to come back. A day shall come when
Words of prayer will be cherished, whispered
Loudly called again to come,
Return to the mountains, houses, fields,
Engulfing voices calling to return,
And none but screams shall be their boundaries
Nor shall the sea be their last hold, its
Waves still silencing the voices shouting
To return, shackled, chains of soldiers
Marching into brothers' wars on fathers
Earth that swallow all.
Beloved lands were called by men and women not to run,
Do not run too fast, don't rush, the place is burning,
And my mother's voice like tunnels calling back her cubs
Into her flameless earth, becoming
Burning ashes,
While winds go round themselves and silence's scepter
Is upon us, and till we freeze we're called upon
Inside the circle
And we die
Encircled
Like Philistines in temples
Beloved lands to say.