I drafted a translation of Ehud Manor's
I HAVE NO OTHER COUNTRY
I have no other country
I have no other country
I will not remain quiet I have no other country
The first verse and refrain is the most problematic because the punctuation is meant to be blurred and the phrases interflowing. It is usually sung acapelo too to give the effect of a lonely voice. But it has become the most influentual of Manor's songs.
Let me try it again:
I HAVE NO OTHER COUNTRY
I have no other homeland
I have no other homeland Of course Gali Atari sang it at the funeral just now, as thousands of people swayed to the stark song. What an intimate mass funeral. April 14, 2005 Thank goodness this morning's news on tv didn't mention Ehud Manor again. Even though he was (and will continue to be) indeed an incredible influence on Israeli culture, there should be some privacy for the personal mourners. Even as I could not keep from watching and weeping over the amazing performance of Mati Caspi of Ehud's song to his wife, "Soon - we will be one flesh," and I knew how Ehud shared his private life with the public, I want to be alone with him for a bit. And of course Bibi's speech at the funeral that ended with "Rest in Peace Brother" infuriated me.
Last night a reporter from a Milanese newspaper interviewed me about that film about Hitler, you know the one that shows his last few days in the bunker - the human being - suffering. Never been interviewed before about a film I'll never see. Why won't i see it? not because it's not being shown in Israel. I told him I thought that it is important to show that Hitler was a human being, because it is important to realize that the man who caused so much suffering in the world was a person not a monster, and that another person like him could appear at any moment. At the same time I told him that I would never see the film because - just as my father got a stroke during "Night Porter" and never totally recovered -my body would not be able to accept the inherent agression and violence in the subject. The hundreds of relatives who would have been alive today had it not been for Hitler would not let me.
April 15, 2005 Today my mother would have been 100 years old. She died more than fifteen years ago - having I think made the calculation that more of the people she loved were dead than alive. One anecdote. In the last year of her life, when she was living alone in Rochester, and I was temporarily ensconced in Syosset, New York, I got a call from her that she had fallen and could only remember my number. I called her local emergency services and they broke down the door of her flat, and took her to the hospital with a broken hip. By the time I got there, she was already in the hospital, after the operation. "Vos machstu?" I asked her, how are you. And she answered "Mir is gut." I am fine. I've got it great. This relieved me. And I went home to her flat to get her some things and sleep off the trip. Then either I remembered or someone reminded me (my memory is now worse than ever) that "Mir is gut" is the first line of Motl the Cantor's Son by Sholom Aleicheim. "Mir is gut - ich bin a yossem" I've got it great - I'm an orphan. Even though my mother was referring to her aloneness in her time of agony, and her loss of my father only a year before, her orphan status was always utmost in her mind -- the fact that she was the only survivor of a large and burgeoning family, all wiped out in a very short time, and all on the verge of creation. The poetry forum I talked about last week made it to le monde. If you like French, check it out. Preparations for the seder are in full swing. People go around bragging about the number of guests they're feeding as if it is a measure of their greatness and generousity. My butcher warned me it may be too late to order meat, my grocer is scalping the infirm old ladies whose families expect them to make gefilte fish, the Arab greengrocer warns me about the strength of his horseradish as if his potency is tied up with it. It is housewives hell out there. April 16, 2005 ?Why arent you people home watching television?" I wanted to scream out into the traffic jam
in the middle of the night in tel aviv - we were on lilienblum street and not moving. And its saturday night - usually a slow night around here. And cold - 18 degrees centigrade: i wore a coat. Everyone was complaining about the weather. But they were all out and about. April 17, 2005
I was thinking of not going to Ehud's shiva. I was thinking that there would be too many people who didn't really know anyone but who felt close to him through his songs, and the family would be exhausted and irritated. But I found myself on the way there without thinking - a five minute drive from my house, on the road that runs parallel to the beach - humming his songs.
And it was good to be there - to recall the feelings and experience the grief for a single, real human being as well as the terrible loss of a national voice.
though my land is burning
only a word in Hebrew
pierces my veins my soul -
with aching body, hungering in my heart,
this is my home.
I will not remain quiet
though the face of my land has changed
I won’t stop reminding her --
singing in her ears
until she opens her eyes
though my land is burning
only a word in Hebrew
pierces my veins my soul -
with aching body, hungering in my heart,
this is my home.
though the face of my land has changed
I won’t stop reminding her --
singing in her ears
until she opens her eyes
until she renews her days of old
until she opens her eyes
I have no other country
though my land is burning
only a word in Hebrew
pierces my veins my soul -
with aching body, hungering in my heart,
this is my home.
though my earth is aflame
a word in Hebrew alone
pierces through my veins to my soul -
with aching body, with hungry heart,
Here is my home.
I will not stay silent
that the face of my land has changed
I won’t give up but keep reminding her --
singing in her ears
until she opens her eyes
though my earth is aflame
a word in Hebrew alone
pierces through my veins to my soul -
with aching body, with hungry heart,
Here is my home.
I have no other homeland
though my earth is aflame
a word in Hebrew alone
pierces through my veins to my soul -
with aching body, with hungry heart,
Here is my home.