Poem
Haya Esther
[I shot out...]
I shot out from the guts of historythe latent-lair of the seasons
the terrible forces of misfortune
the skull cracked in two
to emerge from where?
Tell me, are they not locked shut? Mouth? Legs? Arms? Antrum? Heart? Breath?
Nipples? Kidneys? Lymph nodes? Womb? Vulva? Navel? Where is the exit?
In cells? The crevice between my legs? Vagina?
I give birth to creation, I spread my legs
open wide
blood flesh is ploughed
the root of this happening in the cavern between my legs
my lava
my vagina grasping your sweetness
I flew out
screaming
gasping in the blazing light
my fingernails thrust into the sun, my eyes piercing
I inhaled, sowed
exhaled, gave birth
a feather floating on God’s breath
and the soul of the Lord erupted amid blood and feathers
I grew red feathers of prophecy
I flew higher than the sun
the flapping of history’s wings poured down like an angel
myself shooting out darkly virginal primordial
© Translation: 2017, Shira Twersky-Cassel
[I shot out...]
גַּחְתִּי מִמְּעֵי הַהִיסְטוֹרְיָה
חֶבְיוֹנֵי עִתִּים
רָשֻׁיּוֹת הָאֹפֶל הַנּוֹרָא
הַגֻּלְגֹּלֶת הִתְבַּקְּעָה
מֵאֵיפֹה לָצֵאת?
תַּגִּידִי הֵם לֹא נְעוּלִים? הַפֶּה? רַגְלַיִם? יָדַיִם? מְעָרָה? מֵהַלֵּב? מֵהַנְּשִׁימָה?
מֵהַפְּטָמוֹת? כְּלָיוֹת? בַּלּוּטוֹת הַלִּימְפָה? רֶחֶם? פֹּת? טַבּוּר? מֵאֵיפֹה הַיְצִיאָה?
תָּאִים? נְקִיק שֶׁבֵּין רַגְלַי? נַרְתִּיק?
הֲרַת עוֹלָם פִּשַׂקְתִּי אֶת רַגְלַי
פַּעֲרִי פַּעֲרִי
בְּשַׂר הַדָּם נִפְלַח
שֹׁרֶשׁ הַהִתְרַחֲשׁוּת בַּמְּעָרָה שֶׁבֵּין רַגְלַי
לִבָּתִי
מִתְקְךָ נַרְתִּיק נִלְפָּת
הִתְעוֹפַפְתִּי הַחוּצָה
צוֹרַחַת
נוֹהֶמֶת בָּאוֹר הַבּוֹהֵק צִפֹּרְנָי נְעוּצוֹת בַּשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְאִישׁוֹנַי דּוֹקְרִים
שָׁאַפְתִּי הִזְרַעְתִּי
נָשַׁפְתִּי יָלַדְתִּי
נוֹצָה עָפָה בִּנְשִׁימָתוֹ שֶׁל הָאֵל
וְנִשְׁמַת אֲדֹנָי פָּרְצָה הַחוּצָה עִם הַדָּם וְהַנּוֹצוֹת
צָמְחוּ לִי נוֹצוֹת נְבוּאָה אֲדֻמּוֹת
עַפְתִּי לְמַעֲלָה מִן הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ
מַשַּׁק כַּנְפֵי הַהִיסְטוֹרְיָה רָעַף כְּמַלְאָךְ
עַצְמִי גָּח אָפֵל בְּתוּלִי הִיּוּלִי
חֶבְיוֹנֵי עִתִּים
רָשֻׁיּוֹת הָאֹפֶל הַנּוֹרָא
הַגֻּלְגֹּלֶת הִתְבַּקְּעָה
מֵאֵיפֹה לָצֵאת?
תַּגִּידִי הֵם לֹא נְעוּלִים? הַפֶּה? רַגְלַיִם? יָדַיִם? מְעָרָה? מֵהַלֵּב? מֵהַנְּשִׁימָה?
מֵהַפְּטָמוֹת? כְּלָיוֹת? בַּלּוּטוֹת הַלִּימְפָה? רֶחֶם? פֹּת? טַבּוּר? מֵאֵיפֹה הַיְצִיאָה?
תָּאִים? נְקִיק שֶׁבֵּין רַגְלַי? נַרְתִּיק?
הֲרַת עוֹלָם פִּשַׂקְתִּי אֶת רַגְלַי
פַּעֲרִי פַּעֲרִי
בְּשַׂר הַדָּם נִפְלַח
שֹׁרֶשׁ הַהִתְרַחֲשׁוּת בַּמְּעָרָה שֶׁבֵּין רַגְלַי
לִבָּתִי
מִתְקְךָ נַרְתִּיק נִלְפָּת
הִתְעוֹפַפְתִּי הַחוּצָה
צוֹרַחַת
נוֹהֶמֶת בָּאוֹר הַבּוֹהֵק צִפֹּרְנָי נְעוּצוֹת בַּשֶּׁמֶשׁ וְאִישׁוֹנַי דּוֹקְרִים
שָׁאַפְתִּי הִזְרַעְתִּי
נָשַׁפְתִּי יָלַדְתִּי
נוֹצָה עָפָה בִּנְשִׁימָתוֹ שֶׁל הָאֵל
וְנִשְׁמַת אֲדֹנָי פָּרְצָה הַחוּצָה עִם הַדָּם וְהַנּוֹצוֹת
צָמְחוּ לִי נוֹצוֹת נְבוּאָה אֲדֻמּוֹת
עַפְתִּי לְמַעֲלָה מִן הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ
מַשַּׁק כַּנְפֵי הַהִיסְטוֹרְיָה רָעַף כְּמַלְאָךְ
עַצְמִי גָּח אָפֵל בְּתוּלִי הִיּוּלִי
© 2001, Haya Esther
From: Elohe medaber basri/My Flesh Speaks God
Publisher: Carmel, Jerusalem
From: Elohe medaber basri/My Flesh Speaks God
Publisher: Carmel, Jerusalem
Poems
Poems of Haya Esther
Close
[I shot out...]
I shot out from the guts of historythe latent-lair of the seasons
the terrible forces of misfortune
the skull cracked in two
to emerge from where?
Tell me, are they not locked shut? Mouth? Legs? Arms? Antrum? Heart? Breath?
Nipples? Kidneys? Lymph nodes? Womb? Vulva? Navel? Where is the exit?
In cells? The crevice between my legs? Vagina?
I give birth to creation, I spread my legs
open wide
blood flesh is ploughed
the root of this happening in the cavern between my legs
my lava
my vagina grasping your sweetness
I flew out
screaming
gasping in the blazing light
my fingernails thrust into the sun, my eyes piercing
I inhaled, sowed
exhaled, gave birth
a feather floating on God’s breath
and the soul of the Lord erupted amid blood and feathers
I grew red feathers of prophecy
I flew higher than the sun
the flapping of history’s wings poured down like an angel
myself shooting out darkly virginal primordial
© 2017, Shira Twersky-Cassel
From: Elohe medaber basri/My Flesh Speaks God
From: Elohe medaber basri/My Flesh Speaks God
[I shot out...]
I shot out from the guts of historythe latent-lair of the seasons
the terrible forces of misfortune
the skull cracked in two
to emerge from where?
Tell me, are they not locked shut? Mouth? Legs? Arms? Antrum? Heart? Breath?
Nipples? Kidneys? Lymph nodes? Womb? Vulva? Navel? Where is the exit?
In cells? The crevice between my legs? Vagina?
I give birth to creation, I spread my legs
open wide
blood flesh is ploughed
the root of this happening in the cavern between my legs
my lava
my vagina grasping your sweetness
I flew out
screaming
gasping in the blazing light
my fingernails thrust into the sun, my eyes piercing
I inhaled, sowed
exhaled, gave birth
a feather floating on God’s breath
and the soul of the Lord erupted amid blood and feathers
I grew red feathers of prophecy
I flew higher than the sun
the flapping of history’s wings poured down like an angel
myself shooting out darkly virginal primordial
© 2017, Shira Twersky-Cassel
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