Article
Welcome to Israeli poetry - May 2005
January 18, 2006
The last issue featured two poets whose work exhibits protest and subversion, poetry that consciously avoids being ‘nice’ and which does not attempt to charm the reader. This issue presents poets who may somehow more easily suit the consensus, such as it may be, among poetry readers. The religious poetry of Zelda found its way into the hearts of both secular and religiously observant readers; the poetry of Amir Or combines a spiritual quest with a search for ancient wisdom without shying away from the joys of the flesh, and from the language of day-to-day, and which from the beginning turned not only toward a small, homogenous audience, but aspired to find a common denominator with a larger group of poetry readers of all types. The political and social furor that characterizes Aharon Shabtai’s poetry, and the existential rage of Efrat Mishori give way in this issue to the poetry of Zelda and Amir Or: their thoughtful observation of the world, and search for ways to understand the secrets of the universe, the significance of existence, and the puzzle of life and death.
The similarity shared by this issue’s poets is clearly marked; it lies in the preference for the spiritual over the material, yet without ignoring this world and its people. Points of difference are just as clear, in the poets’ biographies and in their poetry: a deceased religious woman poet, and a secular, living male poet with an interest in other religions and ethnicities, searching for truth and enchantment on every known spiritual path. Zelda’s Judaism is direct, genuine, rooted in tradition; Or does not deny his Jewishness, but is curious about the possibilities of the new paganism, aware of the possibilities of every religion and every type of spiritual search. Zelda’s affinity for nature is unmediated, despite the fact that she was a city-dweller, and her genuine approach to plants and animals creates wonders. Amir Or, on the other hand, tends to deal in abstractions – language, God, thought, love, murder – and even when he touches on more tangible material, he adds a spiritual layer, enriching our approach to these subjects, while reducing their level of simplicity – one of the main qualities of objects in Zelda’s world. Perhaps, after all, the difference between Zelda and Or is smaller than what they share – not as people conducting completely different lives, but as artists for whom every human phenomenon, every natural thing, and every product of the mind arouses their curiosity, and serves to inspire poetry.
Zelda was born in the Ukraine in 1916 and died in Israel in 1984, having lived in both British Mandatory Palestine and the independent Israeli state. Despite the many upheavals Jewish people endured in her lifetime, and despite her profound connection to their culture, religion and language, her poetry, nourished on Jewish sources, is essentially universal and not merely local. This is poetry free from parochialism, extreme nationalism, religious fanaticism or intolerance for the Other. The poetry of Amir Or, born in Tel Aviv 40 years after Zelda was born, is also essentially universal, even when it examines local matters which are closely linked to Israeli culture. Its universality does not stem from the writer’s curiosity about foreign cultures and other religious belief systems, but from his ability to avoid labeling, and to avoid belonging to only one group that might narrow his horizons and cause his work to be narrowly pigeonholed.
The tenth edition presents six poems by Zelda in the translation of Marcia Falk, accompanied by the translator’s essay on the character of the poet, on her encounters with her and on the experience of translating Zelda’s work into English. In addition, an essay by the Israeli writer Lea Aini brilliantly describes the attraction of a secular reader to Zelda’s moving, religious poetry. As a PIW editor, I have taken the opportunity to analyze the poem ‘Two Elements’.
Six poems by Amir Or are featured here in the translation of Vivian Eden, Irit Sela, and Tsippi Keller. Excerpts from two articles on his poetry also appear – an essay by the English poet, translator and editor Fiona Sampson, and one by an Israeli university lecturer, the cultural and literary scholar Dr. Ariel Hirschfeld. In addition, excerpts from an interview with Or conducted by the American poet Lynn Levin, and a piece by this editor on Or’s poem ‘A Glass of Beer’ also appear.
The poetry of Zelda and Amir Or, like the cry of birds, or a glass of ice water, awaken the soul from its sleep. Have a heartwarming read! All prose translations on the Israeli domain are by PIW editor Lisa Katz, unless otherwise indicated.
{id="3083" title="Rami Saari"}, National Editor
{id="3083" title="Lisa Katz"}, English Language Editor
The Israeli national site is produced by {id="3098" title="Mishkenot Sha’ananim"} International Cultural Centre in Jerusalem.
After the two ‘scandalous’ poets who opened our third year online, Aharon Shabtai and Efrat Mishori, we present two deeply spiritual, but nevertheless controversial poets.
A summary of the first two years launched the February edition of the Israeli pages and included a statement of intention as to future plans for the site, including a ‘line’ – many faces in many hues, a mix of styles and subjects, a mix of new and old. Some of the current year’s offerings will serve as touchstones with which to examine trends in contemporary Hebrew poetry. From this angle, poets who are especially close to each other – or distant – will be presented side by side, so that deep structures, and significant similarities and differences are emphasized, along with the unique aspects of their work. The last issue featured two poets whose work exhibits protest and subversion, poetry that consciously avoids being ‘nice’ and which does not attempt to charm the reader. This issue presents poets who may somehow more easily suit the consensus, such as it may be, among poetry readers. The religious poetry of Zelda found its way into the hearts of both secular and religiously observant readers; the poetry of Amir Or combines a spiritual quest with a search for ancient wisdom without shying away from the joys of the flesh, and from the language of day-to-day, and which from the beginning turned not only toward a small, homogenous audience, but aspired to find a common denominator with a larger group of poetry readers of all types. The political and social furor that characterizes Aharon Shabtai’s poetry, and the existential rage of Efrat Mishori give way in this issue to the poetry of Zelda and Amir Or: their thoughtful observation of the world, and search for ways to understand the secrets of the universe, the significance of existence, and the puzzle of life and death.
The similarity shared by this issue’s poets is clearly marked; it lies in the preference for the spiritual over the material, yet without ignoring this world and its people. Points of difference are just as clear, in the poets’ biographies and in their poetry: a deceased religious woman poet, and a secular, living male poet with an interest in other religions and ethnicities, searching for truth and enchantment on every known spiritual path. Zelda’s Judaism is direct, genuine, rooted in tradition; Or does not deny his Jewishness, but is curious about the possibilities of the new paganism, aware of the possibilities of every religion and every type of spiritual search. Zelda’s affinity for nature is unmediated, despite the fact that she was a city-dweller, and her genuine approach to plants and animals creates wonders. Amir Or, on the other hand, tends to deal in abstractions – language, God, thought, love, murder – and even when he touches on more tangible material, he adds a spiritual layer, enriching our approach to these subjects, while reducing their level of simplicity – one of the main qualities of objects in Zelda’s world. Perhaps, after all, the difference between Zelda and Or is smaller than what they share – not as people conducting completely different lives, but as artists for whom every human phenomenon, every natural thing, and every product of the mind arouses their curiosity, and serves to inspire poetry.
Zelda was born in the Ukraine in 1916 and died in Israel in 1984, having lived in both British Mandatory Palestine and the independent Israeli state. Despite the many upheavals Jewish people endured in her lifetime, and despite her profound connection to their culture, religion and language, her poetry, nourished on Jewish sources, is essentially universal and not merely local. This is poetry free from parochialism, extreme nationalism, religious fanaticism or intolerance for the Other. The poetry of Amir Or, born in Tel Aviv 40 years after Zelda was born, is also essentially universal, even when it examines local matters which are closely linked to Israeli culture. Its universality does not stem from the writer’s curiosity about foreign cultures and other religious belief systems, but from his ability to avoid labeling, and to avoid belonging to only one group that might narrow his horizons and cause his work to be narrowly pigeonholed.
The tenth edition presents six poems by Zelda in the translation of Marcia Falk, accompanied by the translator’s essay on the character of the poet, on her encounters with her and on the experience of translating Zelda’s work into English. In addition, an essay by the Israeli writer Lea Aini brilliantly describes the attraction of a secular reader to Zelda’s moving, religious poetry. As a PIW editor, I have taken the opportunity to analyze the poem ‘Two Elements’.
Six poems by Amir Or are featured here in the translation of Vivian Eden, Irit Sela, and Tsippi Keller. Excerpts from two articles on his poetry also appear – an essay by the English poet, translator and editor Fiona Sampson, and one by an Israeli university lecturer, the cultural and literary scholar Dr. Ariel Hirschfeld. In addition, excerpts from an interview with Or conducted by the American poet Lynn Levin, and a piece by this editor on Or’s poem ‘A Glass of Beer’ also appear.
The poetry of Zelda and Amir Or, like the cry of birds, or a glass of ice water, awaken the soul from its sleep. Have a heartwarming read! All prose translations on the Israeli domain are by PIW editor Lisa Katz, unless otherwise indicated.
{id="3083" title="Rami Saari"}, National Editor
{id="3083" title="Lisa Katz"}, English Language Editor
The Israeli national site is produced by {id="3098" title="Mishkenot Sha’ananim"} International Cultural Centre in Jerusalem.
© Rami Saari
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