israeli politics, poetry

I’m not fasting.  It’s not because I have to take a ridiculous amount of medications.  It’s because fasting makes me concentrate on fasting and not on repentance, religion, prayer, or anything but food.  

But I’d like to give you a little gift – a poem by Rony Sommek:

 

Shofars

 

The sound of the shofar from the Ashkenazi synagogue

mingles with its brother from the Yemenite synagogue

which is already suffused with the shofar’s blow

from the Iraqi synagogue that was built above it.

 

Show me another restaurant in the world

whose menu includes in one mouthful

zhug,

amba

and ptcha.

 

 

(zhug is a Yemenite spicy sauce, amba is a pickled mango sauce from Iraq, and ptcha is an aspic popular in Eastern European cooking)

 

 

fasting – sept 24, 2023 Read Post »

blog, israeli politics, poetry

I know it’s a great hospital, and I have family who worked and trained there, but my visit was very different. The only place I had to wait for Ezi while he did his MRA in a trailer across the street, was the hallway of the surgical building in Soroka, because there was almost no place to wait in the basement office of the health clinic to which we don’t belong. There are a minimal number of seats there – perhaps because the visitors seem to come in enormous clans, mostly close-cropped young men in jeans and black t-shirts. The tiny cafe in the back has no seats at all, and doesn’t seem to have any customers except me and Chanita who came by to keep me company for a few hours. I stayed there, even though the air seemed thick and unclean, because it was cooler than the outside, even though Chanita and I were the only ones wearing masks. But late in the afternoon, I found a bench outside that was partially in the shade, and I sat down in one corner.

I kept my eye on the entrance to the parking lot because I couldn’t reach Ezi and I couldn’t be sure that he had received any of my messages as to my whereabouts, so I did nothing but watch my surroundings.

There was a colorful prayer rug in the other corner of the bench and as I wondered who could have forgotten a carpet so beautiful, a young man in a black shirt and ragged khakis came by and lay the carpet out for prayer. When he finished, he took a nap on the carpet. In the mean time another guy came by and began his prayer on the other side of the bench. He had no rug, and I imagined he came with someone to the emergency ward. Soon I was surrounded by sleeping men. A breeze had come up and my bench was far more convenient than the hospital, so I continued to sit there alone. Much later, Ezi called, and I ran to the gate to meet him, but when I pointed out to him where I had been sitting among the sleepers, there was no one there. It was as if I imagined the whole scene.

Ezi has had numerous MRAs, always in Tel Aviv, and always in the middle of the night. They usually last a few hours and the only disturbance is that we sleep late. But today was a day trip. We arrived home in the evening – having spent the second longest day of the year waiting.

june 20, 2021 – soroka hospital – beersheva Read Post »

poetry

AT HOME

Some people hire gardeners to care for their house plants.

They see them as decorations to suit their interior design.

And indeed the flowers and plants enhance my regard

For the residents and their superb taste in gardeners.

I don’t have anything like a green thumb, and sometimes

They die on me, those plants, just at the time

When I thought I had done everything right by them.

Yesterday I separated a plant (whose name I don’t know

But I know she’s female) from her children.  We relocated

The children outside to a place where the air conditioner drips

From the neighbors’ apartments into the ground.  I hope

They won’t be homesick.  The mother seems lonely

So I sit by her and talk, and I’ve given her a name – Shirley.

I hope it helps because I really want her to blossom again.

 

may 10, 2021 – house plant Read Post »

israeli politics, poetry

Yehuda Amichai
ON THE DAY OF ATONEMENT
On the Day of Atonement in 1967
I put on my festive dark suit and went to the Old City in Jerusalem.
I stood for a long time before the alcove shop of an Arab
not far from the Damascus Gate, a store
of buttons and zippers and spools
of multicolor threads and snaps and buckles.
A splendid multi-colored light, like an open Holy Ark.
I told him in my heart that my father too
had just such a shop of threads and buttons.
I explained to him in my heart of all the decades
and the events and the reasons I am now here,
and my father’s shop is burned up there and he is buried here.
When I finished it was the hour of Ne’ila.
He too pulled down the shutter and locked the gate
And I returned home with all the worshippers
 
*Ne’ila is the final prayer of the Day of Atonement, when the gates to heaven are locked as the fates of all have been sealed.
 
tonight is an evening about Amichai on Jerusalem.  For the link press here.
 

may 9, 2021 – Amichai on jerusalem Read Post »

blog, my life in tel aviv, poetry, ,

It was really thrilling for me to translate Emma Lazarus’s New Colossus to Hebrew.  Even if you don’t know Hebrew, you’ll get my amazing enthusiasm about the poem in the clip…  Let them know if you like it.

It was the first poem that brought me to tears when I was growing up, but the more I studied poetry as a student the more embarrassed I was about loving it.  No one seemed to take the poem as seriously as I did.  But today, when I heard Biden quote a line from the poem, I realized once again that it was the quintessential poem for me, and I was proud that I always believed in the ideals it represents. 

 

April 17, 2021 – The new colossus Read Post »

blog, my life in tel aviv, poetry

a while ago this guy came over and said he was doing this evening on clothes and i had books on clothes.  i liked him and gave him all my clothes books, just because of his interest.  then we corresponded for a while, and one day he wrote me that he was sorry but he wouldn’t be using the poems in the evening,  I had probably not even understood that he was considering them, but I asked for the link anyway.  So with great surprise I discovered that my name was listed in the program as first writer.

Anyway I found a line here, an idea there, but nothing of my text.  It was a wonderful evening of monologues, and I would have loved to have been a part of it – but it wasn’t me at all.   

march 13, 2021 – clothes Read Post »