Because the fever is passing, even though my heart seems to be giving me a warning I need to slow down, I peeked back into what i’d written in the past few days – something i never do – and i was horrified.  i thought fonts and facts were second nature with me, that the writing is automatic and authentic.  But it isn’t.  So I apologize.  

It’s not only the flu, it’s the admissions this week on tv.  First Eli Feldstein talking about his role in the dirty tricks of the Prime Minister’s office, and then Romy Gonen, talking about the sexual and other abuse as a hostage in Gaza.  

Romy – I have said – is the granddaughter of an old and dear friend, one of the first translators of my poetry, Giora Leshem.  He translated some of my most intimate poems, and I translated his.  Here are 3: 

giora Leshem, Poems

the concept of coming home in coming to Israel was always so strong in him, and the sense of desertion in Romy’s relation of her tale was so strong… I actually felt that my heart is giving out.