Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Miri Ben Simhon

I have never needed God

I have never needed God
as a personal savior
in my real life              
syllogisms about His existence
were never clear to me
but left me in a fog,
missing a dimension that I can’t name.
Neither a philosophical God nor a biblical God
suddenly appears among His creations
amid revelations of wisdom in Jerusalem, His city.
And certainly not in disclosures of pious inner principles    
and also not among her poets, unfortunately.
Astronomical bodies at night and mystical landscapes in Sharafat for example
and Beit Jala
bear His between-the-lines existence,
His inklings.
The expression of an ultra-Orthodox man’s eyes in Mea She’arim –
this too –
and even the submission on the face of a sly and seasoned merchant, unbelieving
                                        now in Geula,
when you reproach him.
Something like “Reprove a wise man and he will love you.”*
And you, when you rid yourself of anxious constraints about
                   your surroundings
after taking hash or grass.
Springs of purity that seem to come from nowhere
bubble in coursing blood, in glands, in milk
and some paradisiacal primeval revelation,
and your almost subconscious innerness
your being suddenly revealed –
Is this clear enough to you, heredity? Genes?
Or existential uniqueness, a sustained infancy that knocks you out
                      with a bracing sense of beginning.
Everything becomes clear in a great light.
You shed revulsion and resistance,
a great love germinates within you –
this gloriousness this wonder
comprised of
absolutes of –
objective truth, perfect justice, decency
honor that’s internalized                                 
honesty and advanced wisdom exact to the last detail.
Ha, absolute, divine purity.     
Suddenly you polish a syllogism of your own
for decisive proof of His existence:
God is an idea —
ideas don’t have material existence
but they exist nonetheless
so God exists definitively as the spirit of an idea,
the biblical assertion “He has no body and no physical form”
is clear to me now as an exegesis
that sits well with philosophy.


I have never needed God

מֵעוֹלָם לֹא נִצְרַכְתִּי לֵאלֹהִים
כְּמוֹשִׁיעַ אִישִׁי
בְּחַיַּי הַפְּרַקְטִיִּים
סִילוֹגִיזְמִים בִּדְבַר קִיּוּמוֹ מֵאִידָךְ
מֵעוֹלָם לֹא סִבְּרוּ אֶת אָזְנִי
תָּמִיד נוֹתַרְתִּי עִם תְּחוּשָׁה סְתוּמָה
שֶׁחָסֵר אֵיזֶשֶׁהוּ מֵמַד, אַף שֶׁאֵינִי יוֹדַעַת לְבַטְּאוֹ.
אֱלֹהִים פִילוֹסוֹפִי וְגַם אֱלֹהִים תָּנָכִי
אֵינוֹ צָץ מִבֵּין בְּרוּאָיו
בְּגִילּוּיִים שֶׁל תְּבוּנָה בִּירוּשָׁלַיִם, עִירוֹ.
וּבְוַדַּאי שֶׁלֹא בְּגִילּוּיִים שֶׁל אֵתִיקָה פְּנִימִית אֲדוּקָה –
גַּם לֹא בֵּין מְשׁוֹרְרֶיהָ, לְרוֹע הַמַזָּל.
גַּרְמֵי הַשָּׁמַיִם בַּלַּיְלָה וְנוֹפִים מִיסְטִיִּים עַל הָאֲדָמָה בְּשָׂרָפָת  לְמָשָׁל
וּבֵית גָּ'אלָה
נוֹשְׂאִים אֶת בֵּין הַשִּׁיטִין שֶׁל קִיוּמוֹ,
אֶת הֶרְמֵזָיו.
מַבַּע עֵינָיו שֶׁל דָּתִי חָרֵד קִיצוֹנִי בּמֵאָה שׁעָרִים
גַּם הוּא –
וַאֲפִלּוּ הַכְּנִיעוּת הַמְטֹהֶרֶת בְּפָנָיו שֶׁל סוֹחֵר מְמֻלַּח, עַרְמוּמִי שֶׁהִתְפַּקֵּר, בִּגְאֻלָּה –
כְּשֶׁאַתָּה מוֹכִיחַ אוֹתוֹ.
דַּבַר בִּבְחִינַת  "הוֹכַח לֶחָכָם וְיאֹהַבְךָ".
אַתְּ עַצְמֵךְ כְּשֶׁאַתְּ מְזֻכֶּכֶת מֵאִלּוּצֵי חֶרְדוֹתַיִךְ עִם הַסּוֹבֵב
אַחֲרֵי לְקִיחַת חָשִׁישׁ לְמָשָׁל אוֹ גְּרָס.
מַעֲיָנוֹת שֶׁל טֹהַר שֶׁאֵינֵךְ יוֹדַעַת מִנַּיִן בָּאוּ לָּךְ
תּוֹסְסִים בַּדָּם הַזּוֹרֵם, בַּבַּלּוּטוֹת, בֶּחָלָב
וְאֵיזוֹ הֶאָרָה קַמָּאִית, גַּן-עֶדְנִית.
הַפְּנִימִיוּת הַכְּמוֹ תַּת-הַכָּרָתִית שֶׁלָּךְ,
בִּתְכָנַיִךְ הַנִּגְלִים פִּתְאֹם –
אֵינָן מְחֻוָּרוֹת לָךְ דַּיָן, תּוֹרָשָׁה? גֶּניִם?
אוֹ חַד-פַּעֲמִיּוּת קִיּוּמִית, יַנְקוּת שֶׁנִּשְׁתַּמְּרָה הַמַּעֲלִיפָה אוֹתָךְ תְּחוּשׁוֹת בְּרֵאשִׁית רַעֲנָנוֹת.
הַכֹּל מִתְבַּהֵר בְּאוֹר גָּדוֹל.
אַתְּ מַשִּׁירָה מֵעָלַיִךְ מְאִיסוּת וְהִתְנַגְּדֻּיּוֹת,
וְאַהֲבָה גְּדוֹלָה נוֹבֶטֶת בָּךְ –
הַיֵּשׁוּת הַנֶּאְדֶּרֶת הַזֹּאת הַפֶּלֶא הַזֶּה
שֶׁעִנְיָנוֹ
אַבְּסוֹלוּטִיּוּת שֶׁל –
אֱמֶת אוֹבְּיֶקְטִיבִית, צֶדֶק מֻחְלָט, הֲגִינוּת
כָּבוֹד בְּמוּבָנוֹ הַמֻּפְנָם
יֹשֶׁר וְחָכְמָה מְשֻׁכְלֶלֶת וּמֻרְכֶּבֶת עַד אַחֲרוֹן דַּקֻּיּוֹתֶיהָ.
הָהּ, הַטֹּהַר הַמֻּחְלָט, הָאֱלֹהִי.
לְפֶתַע מִתְלַטֵּשׁ בָּךְ סִילוֹגִיזְם מִשֶּׁלָּךְ
לְהוֹכָחַת קִיּוּמוֹ הַנֶּחֱרֶצֶת:
אֱלֹהִים הוּא אִידֵאָה
לְאִידֵאָה אֵין קִיּוּם גַּשְׁמִי
וּבְכָל זֹאת הִיא קַיֶּמֶת
הָאֲלֹהִים לְפִיכָך קַיָּם קִיּוּם מֻחְלָט כְּרוּחַ-אִידֵאָה,
הַקְּבִיעָה הַתָּנָכִית "אֵין לוֹ גּוּף וְלֹא דְמוּת
הַגּוּף", נְהִירָה לִי עַכְשָׁו בְּבֵאוּר
הַמִּתְיַשֵּׁב גַּם עִם הַפִילוֹסוֹפְיָה .
Close

I have never needed God

I have never needed God
as a personal savior
in my real life              
syllogisms about His existence
were never clear to me
but left me in a fog,
missing a dimension that I can’t name.
Neither a philosophical God nor a biblical God
suddenly appears among His creations
amid revelations of wisdom in Jerusalem, His city.
And certainly not in disclosures of pious inner principles    
and also not among her poets, unfortunately.
Astronomical bodies at night and mystical landscapes in Sharafat for example
and Beit Jala
bear His between-the-lines existence,
His inklings.
The expression of an ultra-Orthodox man’s eyes in Mea She’arim –
this too –
and even the submission on the face of a sly and seasoned merchant, unbelieving
                                        now in Geula,
when you reproach him.
Something like “Reprove a wise man and he will love you.”*
And you, when you rid yourself of anxious constraints about
                   your surroundings
after taking hash or grass.
Springs of purity that seem to come from nowhere
bubble in coursing blood, in glands, in milk
and some paradisiacal primeval revelation,
and your almost subconscious innerness
your being suddenly revealed –
Is this clear enough to you, heredity? Genes?
Or existential uniqueness, a sustained infancy that knocks you out
                      with a bracing sense of beginning.
Everything becomes clear in a great light.
You shed revulsion and resistance,
a great love germinates within you –
this gloriousness this wonder
comprised of
absolutes of –
objective truth, perfect justice, decency
honor that’s internalized                                 
honesty and advanced wisdom exact to the last detail.
Ha, absolute, divine purity.     
Suddenly you polish a syllogism of your own
for decisive proof of His existence:
God is an idea —
ideas don’t have material existence
but they exist nonetheless
so God exists definitively as the spirit of an idea,
the biblical assertion “He has no body and no physical form”
is clear to me now as an exegesis
that sits well with philosophy.


I have never needed God

I have never needed God
as a personal savior
in my real life              
syllogisms about His existence
were never clear to me
but left me in a fog,
missing a dimension that I can’t name.
Neither a philosophical God nor a biblical God
suddenly appears among His creations
amid revelations of wisdom in Jerusalem, His city.
And certainly not in disclosures of pious inner principles    
and also not among her poets, unfortunately.
Astronomical bodies at night and mystical landscapes in Sharafat for example
and Beit Jala
bear His between-the-lines existence,
His inklings.
The expression of an ultra-Orthodox man’s eyes in Mea She’arim –
this too –
and even the submission on the face of a sly and seasoned merchant, unbelieving
                                        now in Geula,
when you reproach him.
Something like “Reprove a wise man and he will love you.”*
And you, when you rid yourself of anxious constraints about
                   your surroundings
after taking hash or grass.
Springs of purity that seem to come from nowhere
bubble in coursing blood, in glands, in milk
and some paradisiacal primeval revelation,
and your almost subconscious innerness
your being suddenly revealed –
Is this clear enough to you, heredity? Genes?
Or existential uniqueness, a sustained infancy that knocks you out
                      with a bracing sense of beginning.
Everything becomes clear in a great light.
You shed revulsion and resistance,
a great love germinates within you –
this gloriousness this wonder
comprised of
absolutes of –
objective truth, perfect justice, decency
honor that’s internalized                                 
honesty and advanced wisdom exact to the last detail.
Ha, absolute, divine purity.     
Suddenly you polish a syllogism of your own
for decisive proof of His existence:
God is an idea —
ideas don’t have material existence
but they exist nonetheless
so God exists definitively as the spirit of an idea,
the biblical assertion “He has no body and no physical form”
is clear to me now as an exegesis
that sits well with philosophy.


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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
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