Poem
Mois Benarroch
A DISAPPEARING PEOPLE
I don’t know why
for twenty years
I’ve only met crazy people
telling me
this is the end
of the Jewish people
everything is going to collapse
if this and that happens
I’ve only met
prophets of daily disaster
for whom I forecast
whole moons of bliss.
Why do they always speak
about the vanishing
Jewish people
they were always vanishing
and I see only
immigrants and more immigrants
houses and more houses
roads and more roads
children building cities
children coming back to their own borders.
Nobody knows where the frontiers are
and after two thousand years
of exile
I wish us
two thousand years
of borders.
for twenty years
I’ve only met crazy people
telling me
this is the end
of the Jewish people
everything is going to collapse
if this and that happens
I’ve only met
prophets of daily disaster
for whom I forecast
whole moons of bliss.
Why do they always speak
about the vanishing
Jewish people
they were always vanishing
and I see only
immigrants and more immigrants
houses and more houses
roads and more roads
children building cities
children coming back to their own borders.
Nobody knows where the frontiers are
and after two thousand years
of exile
I wish us
two thousand years
of borders.
© Translation: 2005, Mois Benarroch
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: Moben, Jerusalem, 2005
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: Moben, Jerusalem, 2005
A DISAPPEARING PEOPLE
© 2005, Mois Benarroch
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: Moben, Jerusalem
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: Moben, Jerusalem
Poems
Poems of Mois Benarroch
Close
A DISAPPEARING PEOPLE
I don’t know why
for twenty years
I’ve only met crazy people
telling me
this is the end
of the Jewish people
everything is going to collapse
if this and that happens
I’ve only met
prophets of daily disaster
for whom I forecast
whole moons of bliss.
Why do they always speak
about the vanishing
Jewish people
they were always vanishing
and I see only
immigrants and more immigrants
houses and more houses
roads and more roads
children building cities
children coming back to their own borders.
Nobody knows where the frontiers are
and after two thousand years
of exile
I wish us
two thousand years
of borders.
for twenty years
I’ve only met crazy people
telling me
this is the end
of the Jewish people
everything is going to collapse
if this and that happens
I’ve only met
prophets of daily disaster
for whom I forecast
whole moons of bliss.
Why do they always speak
about the vanishing
Jewish people
they were always vanishing
and I see only
immigrants and more immigrants
houses and more houses
roads and more roads
children building cities
children coming back to their own borders.
Nobody knows where the frontiers are
and after two thousand years
of exile
I wish us
two thousand years
of borders.
© 2005, Mois Benarroch
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: 2005, Moben, Jerusalem
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: 2005, Moben, Jerusalem
A DISAPPEARING PEOPLE
I don’t know why
for twenty years
I’ve only met crazy people
telling me
this is the end
of the Jewish people
everything is going to collapse
if this and that happens
I’ve only met
prophets of daily disaster
for whom I forecast
whole moons of bliss.
Why do they always speak
about the vanishing
Jewish people
they were always vanishing
and I see only
immigrants and more immigrants
houses and more houses
roads and more roads
children building cities
children coming back to their own borders.
Nobody knows where the frontiers are
and after two thousand years
of exile
I wish us
two thousand years
of borders.
for twenty years
I’ve only met crazy people
telling me
this is the end
of the Jewish people
everything is going to collapse
if this and that happens
I’ve only met
prophets of daily disaster
for whom I forecast
whole moons of bliss.
Why do they always speak
about the vanishing
Jewish people
they were always vanishing
and I see only
immigrants and more immigrants
houses and more houses
roads and more roads
children building cities
children coming back to their own borders.
Nobody knows where the frontiers are
and after two thousand years
of exile
I wish us
two thousand years
of borders.
© 2005, Mois Benarroch
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: 2005, Moben, Jerusalem
From: Bilingual Poems
Publisher: 2005, Moben, Jerusalem
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