Gedicht
Tal Nitzán
MOUNTAIN HIGH
Ran out of cooking gas or somethingwho remembers why
I went up to the roof
one day in May
a day that spread upon the sky a sheet
the shade of mustard of an orange of an H-bomb
and the long arduous craving for rain
rose as a howl from the parking lots
to the satellite plates
there lofty dwellings did surround me
there castles of the lords did besiege me
Summit Towers Tel Aviv Towers
Sheraton City Towers
Gindi Heights and Yoo Citadels
and that little phallus of a building
and in the shade of the towers
looking like a forest of taut $ $ $
their claws thrust in the receding earth
and their flat foreheads in the yellow skies
I reflected upon the apartment eighteen steps below
upon the grace revived year after year
conditionally with no renewal option against a security deposit
upon the tirelessly self-refining setting
that one day
with a swift, proficient tug
will be pulled like a rug
from under my feet.
© Translation: 2011, Tal Nitzán
MOUNTAIN HIGH
© 2009, Tal Nitzan
From: The First to Forget
Publisher: Am Oved, Tel Aviv
From: The First to Forget
Publisher: Am Oved, Tel Aviv
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MOUNTAIN HIGH
From: The First to Forget
MOUNTAIN HIGH
Ran out of cooking gas or somethingwho remembers why
I went up to the roof
one day in May
a day that spread upon the sky a sheet
the shade of mustard of an orange of an H-bomb
and the long arduous craving for rain
rose as a howl from the parking lots
to the satellite plates
there lofty dwellings did surround me
there castles of the lords did besiege me
Summit Towers Tel Aviv Towers
Sheraton City Towers
Gindi Heights and Yoo Citadels
and that little phallus of a building
and in the shade of the towers
looking like a forest of taut $ $ $
their claws thrust in the receding earth
and their flat foreheads in the yellow skies
I reflected upon the apartment eighteen steps below
upon the grace revived year after year
conditionally with no renewal option against a security deposit
upon the tirelessly self-refining setting
that one day
with a swift, proficient tug
will be pulled like a rug
from under my feet.
© 2011, Tal Nitzán
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