Hebrew लेबलों वाले संदेश दिखाए जा रहे हैं. सभी संदेश दिखाएं
Hebrew लेबलों वाले संदेश दिखाए जा रहे हैं. सभी संदेश दिखाएं

4 अगस्त 2021

The Diameter Of The Bomb

The diameter of the bomb was thirty centimeters
and the diameter of its effective range about seven meters,
with four dead and eleven wounded.
And around these, in a larger circle
of pain and time, two hospitals are scattered
and one graveyard. But the young woman
who was buried in the city she came from,
at a distance of more than a hundred kilometers,
enlarges the circle considerably,
and the solitary man mourning her death
at the distant shores of a country far across the sea
includes the entire world in the circle.
And I won’t even mention the crying of orphans
that reaches up to the throne of God and
beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.

21 जनवरी 2021

A Man Doesn't Have Time In His Life

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.

--- Yehuda Amichai (Note: From "The Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai", translations by ChanaBloch and Stephen Mitchell)

11 सितंबर 2014

Today I am Modest

Today I am modest as an animal,
Spread flush as rainwashed fields.
With a small fat hand I lead
My life towards compassion and children.
Today each stranger, each sufferer
Comes to me.
My heart's little gifts
Patter rain-like about me.
And already I carry Tomorrow-
Its weight closed in
And again leaping out,
Without looking, toward all the unknown.

---Esther Raab
Translated by A.Z. Foreman