Poem
Haya Esther
Man of the Well
MAN OF THE WELLIf you set me down on one of the mountains
I will call on my holy ancestors
cry the owl’s shriek
embrace the trunks of trees
my breasts dripping over roots
nectar rising in my nostrils
I will mix your seed with my blood
call the great storms to spread my thighs
place the roar of the ocean in the depths of my ears
plant the sun in my hollows
the height of the eagle will rise high pulling my hairs
I will rip a hole in the curtain of the firmament
between firmament and firmament the distance is five hundred years
I will make you drink a love potion
on the heights
I will become pregnant from myself
the burning baby the sole of the foot still in my womb
my placenta will drip a potion of wildness
your roars are lions
until the night furrows
you prophesy over the mountains
the sound of your prophecy in the cliffs
come in my crevices O prophet
have sex with me man of the well
kissing the soles of your feet man of God
then a star will be revealed
the star of the chariot that will carry me
over the high mountains I will scatter my ashes
descending from the chariot
the wind planted its seeds in me
“Afar afar
my soul craves to wander”
© Translation: 2017, Linda Zisquit
Man of the Well
אָדָם הַמַּעְיָן
אִם תַּנִּיחֵנִי עַל אַחַד הֶהָרִים
אֶקְרָא לְאָבוֹת אֲבוֹתַי הַקְּדוֹשִׁים
אֶצְרַח צְרִיחַת יַנְשׁוּף
אֲחַבֵּק גִּזְעֵי עֵצִים
אֲטַפְטֵף שַׁדַּי עַל שֹׁרָשִׁים
נֶקְטָר יַעֲלֶה בְּאַפִּי
אֶמְהַל זַרְעֲךָ בְּדָמִי
אֶקְרָא לַסּוּפוֹת הַגְּדוֹלוֹת לְפַשֵׂק יְרֵכַי
אָשִׂים שְׁאוֹן אוֹקְיָנוֹס בִּמְצוּלוֹת אָזְנַי
אֶשְׁתֹּל הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ בִּנְקִיקַי
תָּבוֹא גַּבְהוּת הַנֶּשֶׁר גְּבָהִים מוֹשֵׁךְ שַׂעֲרוֹתַי
חוֹר בְּוִילוֹן רָקִיעַ אֶקְרַע
בֵּין רָקִיעַ לְרָקִיעַ מַהֲלָךְ ה' מֵאוֹת שָׁנָה
אַשְׁקֶה אוֹתְךָ שִׁקּוּי אָהֲבָה
בִּשְׁחָקִים
אֶתְעַבֵּר מֵעַצְמִי
הַתִּינוֹק הַבּוֹעֵר כַּף רַגְלוֹ עֲדַיִן בְּרַחְמִי
שִׁקּוּי פִּרְאוּת תִּטֹּף שִׁלְיָתִי
אֲרָיוֹת שוֹאֲגֶיךָ
עַד הִתְקַמְּטוּת הַלַּיְלָה
אַתָּה מִתְנַבֵּא עַל הֶהָרִים
קוֹל נְבוּאָתְךָ בִּמְצוּקַי
בֹּא בִּנְקִיקַי הַנָּבִיא
בְּעֲל אוֹתִי אָדָם הַמַּעְיָן
מְנַשֶּׁקֶת כַּפּוֹת רַגְלֶיךָ אִישׁ הָאֱלֹהִים
אָז יִתְגַּל
כּוֹכָב הַמֶּרְכָּבָה לָשֵׂאת אוֹתִי
עַל הֶהָרִים הַגְּבוֹהִים אֲפַזֵּר אֶפְרִי
יוֹרְדֵי מֶרְכָּבָה
רוּחַ טָמַן זַרְעוֹ בִּי
"מְרְחָבִים מְרְחָבִים
אִוְּתָה לָשׁוּט נַפְשִׁי"
אִם תַּנִּיחֵנִי עַל אַחַד הֶהָרִים
אֶקְרָא לְאָבוֹת אֲבוֹתַי הַקְּדוֹשִׁים
אֶצְרַח צְרִיחַת יַנְשׁוּף
אֲחַבֵּק גִּזְעֵי עֵצִים
אֲטַפְטֵף שַׁדַּי עַל שֹׁרָשִׁים
נֶקְטָר יַעֲלֶה בְּאַפִּי
אֶמְהַל זַרְעֲךָ בְּדָמִי
אֶקְרָא לַסּוּפוֹת הַגְּדוֹלוֹת לְפַשֵׂק יְרֵכַי
אָשִׂים שְׁאוֹן אוֹקְיָנוֹס בִּמְצוּלוֹת אָזְנַי
אֶשְׁתֹּל הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ בִּנְקִיקַי
תָּבוֹא גַּבְהוּת הַנֶּשֶׁר גְּבָהִים מוֹשֵׁךְ שַׂעֲרוֹתַי
חוֹר בְּוִילוֹן רָקִיעַ אֶקְרַע
בֵּין רָקִיעַ לְרָקִיעַ מַהֲלָךְ ה' מֵאוֹת שָׁנָה
אַשְׁקֶה אוֹתְךָ שִׁקּוּי אָהֲבָה
בִּשְׁחָקִים
אֶתְעַבֵּר מֵעַצְמִי
הַתִּינוֹק הַבּוֹעֵר כַּף רַגְלוֹ עֲדַיִן בְּרַחְמִי
שִׁקּוּי פִּרְאוּת תִּטֹּף שִׁלְיָתִי
אֲרָיוֹת שוֹאֲגֶיךָ
עַד הִתְקַמְּטוּת הַלַּיְלָה
אַתָּה מִתְנַבֵּא עַל הֶהָרִים
קוֹל נְבוּאָתְךָ בִּמְצוּקַי
בֹּא בִּנְקִיקַי הַנָּבִיא
בְּעֲל אוֹתִי אָדָם הַמַּעְיָן
מְנַשֶּׁקֶת כַּפּוֹת רַגְלֶיךָ אִישׁ הָאֱלֹהִים
אָז יִתְגַּל
כּוֹכָב הַמֶּרְכָּבָה לָשֵׂאת אוֹתִי
עַל הֶהָרִים הַגְּבוֹהִים אֲפַזֵּר אֶפְרִי
יוֹרְדֵי מֶרְכָּבָה
רוּחַ טָמַן זַרְעוֹ בִּי
"מְרְחָבִים מְרְחָבִים
אִוְּתָה לָשׁוּט נַפְשִׁי"
© 1996, Haya Esther
From: Ha-ruakh veh ha-dam/Wind and Blood
Publisher: Golan, Tel Aviv
From: Ha-ruakh veh ha-dam/Wind and Blood
Publisher: Golan, Tel Aviv
Poems
Poems of Haya Esther
Close
Man of the Well
MAN OF THE WELLIf you set me down on one of the mountains
I will call on my holy ancestors
cry the owl’s shriek
embrace the trunks of trees
my breasts dripping over roots
nectar rising in my nostrils
I will mix your seed with my blood
call the great storms to spread my thighs
place the roar of the ocean in the depths of my ears
plant the sun in my hollows
the height of the eagle will rise high pulling my hairs
I will rip a hole in the curtain of the firmament
between firmament and firmament the distance is five hundred years
I will make you drink a love potion
on the heights
I will become pregnant from myself
the burning baby the sole of the foot still in my womb
my placenta will drip a potion of wildness
your roars are lions
until the night furrows
you prophesy over the mountains
the sound of your prophecy in the cliffs
come in my crevices O prophet
have sex with me man of the well
kissing the soles of your feet man of God
then a star will be revealed
the star of the chariot that will carry me
over the high mountains I will scatter my ashes
descending from the chariot
the wind planted its seeds in me
“Afar afar
my soul craves to wander”
© 2017, Linda Zisquit
From: Ha-ruakh veh ha-dam/Wind and Blood
From: Ha-ruakh veh ha-dam/Wind and Blood
Man of the Well
MAN OF THE WELLIf you set me down on one of the mountains
I will call on my holy ancestors
cry the owl’s shriek
embrace the trunks of trees
my breasts dripping over roots
nectar rising in my nostrils
I will mix your seed with my blood
call the great storms to spread my thighs
place the roar of the ocean in the depths of my ears
plant the sun in my hollows
the height of the eagle will rise high pulling my hairs
I will rip a hole in the curtain of the firmament
between firmament and firmament the distance is five hundred years
I will make you drink a love potion
on the heights
I will become pregnant from myself
the burning baby the sole of the foot still in my womb
my placenta will drip a potion of wildness
your roars are lions
until the night furrows
you prophesy over the mountains
the sound of your prophecy in the cliffs
come in my crevices O prophet
have sex with me man of the well
kissing the soles of your feet man of God
then a star will be revealed
the star of the chariot that will carry me
over the high mountains I will scatter my ashes
descending from the chariot
the wind planted its seeds in me
“Afar afar
my soul craves to wander”
© 2017, Linda Zisquit
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