DAN PAGIS

FRAGMENTS OF A LAMENT TO A FRIEND

I closed your eyes.

I put your hands back in their place.

The soles of your feet

look at me in pity:

I am superfluous.

I find my hands.

What can be done with my hands?

I put my hat on my hatted head,

buttoned my buttoned coat.

The new cemetery is large,

all future. From far

and near, incessantly,

the cantors sing.

You are silent, a bit embarrassed: perhaps

The goodbyes will be long.

The nails grow slowly, pledging peace.

The mouth-gap reconciles with its creator.

Now now the fists of earth beat

on the tablets of the trap:

Open for us,

open for us.

translated by

Karen Alkalay-Gut