Poem
Esther Raab
All the cats will mourn
All the cats will mournfor me;
hunger-ridden –
world sorrow reflected
in their big eyes,
all the doves will mourn
for me, they who gathered seeds –
from my palm;
bee-eaters in vain will scatter,
silver trills of their voice –
to wide-open spaces,
a gold feather
flickers in the sun –
unobserved;
bindweed will mourn me –
I drank their cups,
dew and vanilla in the mornings,
all the stray dogs,
skinny and limping
from pot-shot stones;
and the owls will sob
in pain – at night
with no one to hear them
only the stupid ants
will continue on their course –
without pause,
and the trees will grow
and the hedges put on leafage
and moist jasmine
will sprinkle its perfume
and man will plunge knives –
into human flesh –
stabbing and stabbing
without end –
1971
© Translation: 2002, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature
From: Thistles: Selected Poems of Esther Raab. Translated by Harold Schimmel
Publisher: Ibis, Jerusalem, 2002
From: Thistles: Selected Poems of Esther Raab. Translated by Harold Schimmel
Publisher: Ibis, Jerusalem, 2002
All the cats will mourn
© 1988, Zmora Bitan Publishers
From: Collected Poems
Publisher: Zmora Bitan, Tel Aviv
From: Collected Poems
Publisher: Zmora Bitan, Tel Aviv
Poems
Poems of Esther Raab
Close
All the cats will mourn
All the cats will mournfor me;
hunger-ridden –
world sorrow reflected
in their big eyes,
all the doves will mourn
for me, they who gathered seeds –
from my palm;
bee-eaters in vain will scatter,
silver trills of their voice –
to wide-open spaces,
a gold feather
flickers in the sun –
unobserved;
bindweed will mourn me –
I drank their cups,
dew and vanilla in the mornings,
all the stray dogs,
skinny and limping
from pot-shot stones;
and the owls will sob
in pain – at night
with no one to hear them
only the stupid ants
will continue on their course –
without pause,
and the trees will grow
and the hedges put on leafage
and moist jasmine
will sprinkle its perfume
and man will plunge knives –
into human flesh –
stabbing and stabbing
without end –
1971
© 2002, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature
From: Thistles: Selected Poems of Esther Raab. Translated by Harold Schimmel
Publisher: 2002, Ibis, Jerusalem
From: Thistles: Selected Poems of Esther Raab. Translated by Harold Schimmel
Publisher: 2002, Ibis, Jerusalem
All the cats will mourn
All the cats will mournfor me;
hunger-ridden –
world sorrow reflected
in their big eyes,
all the doves will mourn
for me, they who gathered seeds –
from my palm;
bee-eaters in vain will scatter,
silver trills of their voice –
to wide-open spaces,
a gold feather
flickers in the sun –
unobserved;
bindweed will mourn me –
I drank their cups,
dew and vanilla in the mornings,
all the stray dogs,
skinny and limping
from pot-shot stones;
and the owls will sob
in pain – at night
with no one to hear them
only the stupid ants
will continue on their course –
without pause,
and the trees will grow
and the hedges put on leafage
and moist jasmine
will sprinkle its perfume
and man will plunge knives –
into human flesh –
stabbing and stabbing
without end –
1971
© 2002, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature
From: Thistles: Selected Poems of Esther Raab. Translated by Harold Schimmel
Publisher: 2002, Ibis, Jerusalem
From: Thistles: Selected Poems of Esther Raab. Translated by Harold Schimmel
Publisher: 2002, Ibis, Jerusalem
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère