Gedicht
Israel Pincas
THE COLD AND THE HEAT
1It was impossible to hold onto anything.
I didn’t even embrace my mother as one should
And didn’t part from her as one does before a trip,
When we sat and spoke all night
And said warm things,
Sometimes excited,
That ‘would last for the years to come’.
“There was no time to prepare you,”
She would later write, from her ‘new house’, interpreting
The words ‘in the desert’.
Nor did I manage to tell you.
2
And the woman who glowed once
At intermission, in the concert hall,
Le Casque d’Or,
Far from the blast of The Trojans,
Is gone. Amazing how she left no trace
Or evidence,
Aside perhaps from an invisible groove
In a greying cell of the brain,
Like wagon wheels leave
In the mud and slush, in autumn.
“It was impossible to see you”.
3
And the heat that once was in me became a liquid that froze:
A dirty block of ice,
Halley’s Comet,
An evil omen, they said,
A rare visitor in our skies,
A tourist in the Solar System,
A subject of wonder
Once every few years.
Everything came by surprise, like a sudden gust of air,
A heat wave or a cold wave
And as it passed, was gone.
4
And the years were pressed and dense and swifter than we were,
People entered and left in them
In a hurry,
Uttered something and disappeared.
In the closet objects were left and the clothes
Of some who no longer were with us,
The heart was done with them,
Some saw it as a proof.
It was impossible to understand a thing.
There was no time for anything. It was impossible to hold onto
Anything. But we acted as if we were ‘immortals’,
And as if there was time for it all. And for the absence,
Or the good word, or the silence.
5
And by the time it was my turn to testify, I had forgotten most of the details.
The words did not respond to those I remembered.
I wanted to say a few things in honour of those who fell in the war.
Something inside me got confused. The words were locked in my throat.
I was told to stay in my place. Instead of remaining seated I got up.
I thought I would speak about joy,
About injustice, about beauty,
The oppressed and the tear.
There was also something I’d repressed for years and which for some reason suddenly seemed important.
Perhaps I should use indirect speech here,
After all it’s not me who is the accused,
And who am I to pronounce myself about the State and its Law.
Others spoke before me. Things were drawn out.
Positive and negative sides were brought up.
Something got tired; wanted to return to a still,
Like a wall that had crumbled, a part of a speech
Or a sentence, an image that was lost, a private form of
Resignation –
In any case the testimony was no longer complete,
The judges were young,
Also the desire to say something, now, was gone.
6
And the child I once was
Remains. Now chewing on a pipe,
Whose mouthpiece is eaten like all those years,
As if acid were poured on all those years.
And the phone call I was waiting for all week
And that made my heart jump –
Turned out to be a ‘wrong number’.
Meanwhile, that too has been forgotten.
And the mail we were waiting for didn’t come.
And the image reflected now in the mirror is no longer credible.
© Translation: 2013, Linda Zisquit
הקור והחום
הקור והחום
1
אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהַחֲזִיק בְּשׁוּם דָּבָר.
אֲפִלּוּ אֶת אִמִּי לֹא חִבַּקְתִּי כְּמוֹ שֶׁצָּרִיךְ
וְלֹא נִפְרַדְתִּי מִמֶּנָּה כְּמוֹ לִפְנֵי נְסִיעָה
כְּשֶׁיָּשַׁבְנוּ וְדִבַּרְנוּ כָּל הַלַּיְלָה
וְאָמַרְנוּ זֶה-לָזוֹ דְּבָרִים חַמִּים,
פְּעָמִים נִרְגָּשִׁים,
שֶׁ'יַּסְפִּיקוּ לְכָל הַשָּׁנִים'.
"לֹא הָיָה זְמַן לְהָכִין אוֹתְךָ,"
הִיא אַחַר-כָּךְ כָּתְבָה, מִ'בֵּיתָהּ הֶחָדָשׁ', וְהָיְתָה מְבָאֶרֶת
אֶת מַשְׁמָעוּת הֲמֻלָּה 'בַּמִּדְבָּר'.
לֹא הִסְפַּקְתִּי אֲנִי לְהַגִּיד לָךְ.
2
וְהָאִשָּׁה שֶׁזָּהֲרָה פַּעַם
בַּהַפְסָקָה, בְּאוּלָם הַקּוֹנְצֶרְטִים
('קַסְדַּת הַזָּהָב'),
הַרְחֵק מִתְּרוּעַת 'הַטְּרוֹיָנִים',
אֵינֶנָּהּ. מַדְהִים מַמָּשׁ אֵיךְ לֹא הוֹתִירָה רִשּׁוּם
אוֹ עֵדוּת,
לְבַד אוּלַי מֵחָרִיץ
לֹא נִרְאֶה, בְּתָא מַאֲפִיר שֶׁל הַמֹּחַ,
כָּזֶה שֶׁמַּשְׁאִירִים אוֹפַנֵּי עֲגָלָה
בַּבֹּץ וּבָרֶפֶשׁ, בַּסְּתָו.
"אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהַבְחִין בָּךְ."
3
וְהַחֹם שֶׁהָיָה בִּי הָיָה לְנוֹזֵל שֶׁקָּפָא:
גּוּשׁ קֶרַח מְלֻכְלָך,
כּוֹכָב הַשָּׁבִיט שֶׁל הַאלִי,
אוֹת מְבַשֵּׂר רָעוֹת, אָמְרוּ,
אוֹרֵחַ נָדִיר בְּשָׁמֵינוּ,
תַּיָּר בְּמַעֲרֶכֶת הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ,
נוֹשֵׂא לְהִשְׁתָּאוּת
אַחַת לְכַמָּה שָׁנִים.
הַכֹּל בָּא בְּהַפְתָּעָה, כְּמַשַּׂב-אֲוִיר פִּתְאֹמִי,
גַּל חֹם אוֹ גַּל קֹר
וְכָמוֹהוּ חָלַף, לֹא הָיָה.
4
וְהַשָּׁנִים הָיוּ פְּחוּסוֹת וּדְחוּסוֹת וּזְרִיזוֹת מֵאִתָּנוּ,
אֲנָשִׁים נִכְנְסוּ וְיָצְאוּ בָּהֶן
בִּמְהִירוּת,
אָמְרוּ מַשֶּׁהוּ וְנֶעֶלְמוּ.
בָּאָרוֹן נוֹתְרוּ חֲפָצִים
וּבְגָדִים שֶׁל מִי שֶׁלֹּא הָיוּ עוֹד אִתָּנוּ,
הַלֵּב כְּבָר גַּס בָּהֶם.
הָיוּ שֶׁרָאוּ בְּכָךְ לִפְעָמִים רְאָיָה.
אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהָבִין שׁוּם דָּבָר.
לֹא הָיָה זְמַן לְשׁוּם דָּבָר. אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהַחֲזִיק
בְּשׁוּם דָּבָר. אֲבָל נָהַגְנוּ כְּאִלּוּ הָיִינוּ 'בְּנֵי אַלְמָוֶת'
וּכְאִלוּ זְמַן יֵשׁ לַכֹּל. וְלַהֶעְדֵּר,
אוֹ לַמִּלָּה הַטּוֹבָה, אוֹ לַשְּׁתִיקָה.
5
וְעַד שֶׁבָּא תוֹרִי לְהָעִיד נִשְׁתַּכְּחוּ מִמֶּנִּי רֹב הַפְּרָטִים.
הַמִּלִּים לֹא נַעֲנוּ לַאֲחֵרִים, שֶׁזָּכַרְתִּי.
בִּקַּשְׁתִּי לוֹמַר אֵיזֶה דְּבָרִים לִכְבוֹד הַנּוֹפְלִים בְּמִלְחָמָה.
מַשֶּׁהוּ בִּי הִתְבַּלְבֵּל. הַמִּלִּים נִנְעֲלוּ בִּגְרוֹנִי.
אָמְרוּ לִי לְהִשָּׁאֵר בִּמְקוֹמִי. בִּמְקוֹם לְהַמְשִׁיךְ וְלָשֶׁבֶת קַמְתִּי.
חָשַׁבְתִּי אֲדַבֵּר עַל הַשִּׂמְחָה.
וְעַל הָעָוֶל, הַיֹּפִי,
עַל הָעֲשׁוּקִים וְהַדִּמְעָה.
הָיָה גַּם מַשֶּׁהוּ שֶׁדָּחַקְתִּי שָׁנִים וּמִשּׁוּם-מָה נִרְאָה לְפֶתַע חָשׁוּב,
אוּלַי מוּטָב אֶנְקֹט לָשׁוֹן עֲקִיפָה
- סוֹף-סוֹף לֹא אֲנִי כָּאן הַנֶּאֱשָׁם –
וּמִי אֲנִי שֶׁאַגִּיד עַל הַמְּדִינָה וְדִינָהּ.
לְפָנַי דִּבְּרוּ אֲחֵרִים. הַדְּבָרִים הִתְאָרְכוּ.
הֹעֲלוּ צְדָדִים לְחִיּוּב וּצְדָדִים לִשְׁלִילָה.
דְּבַר-מָה הִתְעַיֵּף. חִפֵּשׂ לָשׁוּב לְדוֹמֵם,
כְּמוֹ קִיר שֶׁקָּרַס, חֵלֵק-דִּבּוּר
אוֹ מִשְׁפָּט, דִּמּוּי שֶׁאָבַד, צוּרָה
פְּרָטִית שֶׁל שְׁקִיעָה
מִמֵּילָא הָעֵדוּת לֹא הָיְתָה כְּבָר שְׁלֵמָה,
הַשּׁוֹפְטִים הָיוּ צְעִירִים,
גַּם הָרָצוֹן לְהַגִּיד מַשֶּׁהוּ, עַכְשָׁו, לֹא הָיָה.
6
וְהַיֶּלֶד שֶׁפַּעַם הָיִיתִי
נִשְׁאָר: מוֹצֵץ עַכְשָׁו מִקְטֶרֶת,
שֶׁפִּיָּתָהּ אֲכוּלָה כְּמוֹ כָּל הַשָּׁנִים הָאֵלֶּה
וּכְמוֹ שָׁפְכוּ עַל כָּל הַשָּׁנִים הָאֵלֶּה חֻמְצָה.
וְצִלְצוּל הַטֶּלֶפוֹן לוֹ חִכִּיתִי כָּל הַשָּׁבוּעַ
וַאֲשֶׁר הִקְפִּיץ אֶת לִבִּי,
הִתְגַּלָּה כְּ'טָעוּת'.
נִשְׁתַּכַּח גַּם הוּא בֵּינְתַיִם.
וְהַדֹּאַר שֶׁחִכִּינוּ לוֹ לֹא בָּא.
וְהַדְּמוּת הַמִּשְׁתַּקֶּפֶת עַכְשָׁו בַּמַּרְאָה לֹא אֲמִינָה.
© 1999, Even Hoshen
From: Mare Nostrum
Publisher: Even Hoshen, Rananna
From: Mare Nostrum
Publisher: Even Hoshen, Rananna
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הקור והחום
1
אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהַחֲזִיק בְּשׁוּם דָּבָר.
אֲפִלּוּ אֶת אִמִּי לֹא חִבַּקְתִּי כְּמוֹ שֶׁצָּרִיךְ
וְלֹא נִפְרַדְתִּי מִמֶּנָּה כְּמוֹ לִפְנֵי נְסִיעָה
כְּשֶׁיָּשַׁבְנוּ וְדִבַּרְנוּ כָּל הַלַּיְלָה
וְאָמַרְנוּ זֶה-לָזוֹ דְּבָרִים חַמִּים,
פְּעָמִים נִרְגָּשִׁים,
שֶׁ'יַּסְפִּיקוּ לְכָל הַשָּׁנִים'.
"לֹא הָיָה זְמַן לְהָכִין אוֹתְךָ,"
הִיא אַחַר-כָּךְ כָּתְבָה, מִ'בֵּיתָהּ הֶחָדָשׁ', וְהָיְתָה מְבָאֶרֶת
אֶת מַשְׁמָעוּת הֲמֻלָּה 'בַּמִּדְבָּר'.
לֹא הִסְפַּקְתִּי אֲנִי לְהַגִּיד לָךְ.
2
וְהָאִשָּׁה שֶׁזָּהֲרָה פַּעַם
בַּהַפְסָקָה, בְּאוּלָם הַקּוֹנְצֶרְטִים
('קַסְדַּת הַזָּהָב'),
הַרְחֵק מִתְּרוּעַת 'הַטְּרוֹיָנִים',
אֵינֶנָּהּ. מַדְהִים מַמָּשׁ אֵיךְ לֹא הוֹתִירָה רִשּׁוּם
אוֹ עֵדוּת,
לְבַד אוּלַי מֵחָרִיץ
לֹא נִרְאֶה, בְּתָא מַאֲפִיר שֶׁל הַמֹּחַ,
כָּזֶה שֶׁמַּשְׁאִירִים אוֹפַנֵּי עֲגָלָה
בַּבֹּץ וּבָרֶפֶשׁ, בַּסְּתָו.
"אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהַבְחִין בָּךְ."
3
וְהַחֹם שֶׁהָיָה בִּי הָיָה לְנוֹזֵל שֶׁקָּפָא:
גּוּשׁ קֶרַח מְלֻכְלָך,
כּוֹכָב הַשָּׁבִיט שֶׁל הַאלִי,
אוֹת מְבַשֵּׂר רָעוֹת, אָמְרוּ,
אוֹרֵחַ נָדִיר בְּשָׁמֵינוּ,
תַּיָּר בְּמַעֲרֶכֶת הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ,
נוֹשֵׂא לְהִשְׁתָּאוּת
אַחַת לְכַמָּה שָׁנִים.
הַכֹּל בָּא בְּהַפְתָּעָה, כְּמַשַּׂב-אֲוִיר פִּתְאֹמִי,
גַּל חֹם אוֹ גַּל קֹר
וְכָמוֹהוּ חָלַף, לֹא הָיָה.
4
וְהַשָּׁנִים הָיוּ פְּחוּסוֹת וּדְחוּסוֹת וּזְרִיזוֹת מֵאִתָּנוּ,
אֲנָשִׁים נִכְנְסוּ וְיָצְאוּ בָּהֶן
בִּמְהִירוּת,
אָמְרוּ מַשֶּׁהוּ וְנֶעֶלְמוּ.
בָּאָרוֹן נוֹתְרוּ חֲפָצִים
וּבְגָדִים שֶׁל מִי שֶׁלֹּא הָיוּ עוֹד אִתָּנוּ,
הַלֵּב כְּבָר גַּס בָּהֶם.
הָיוּ שֶׁרָאוּ בְּכָךְ לִפְעָמִים רְאָיָה.
אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהָבִין שׁוּם דָּבָר.
לֹא הָיָה זְמַן לְשׁוּם דָּבָר. אִי-אֶפְשָׁר הָיָה לְהַחֲזִיק
בְּשׁוּם דָּבָר. אֲבָל נָהַגְנוּ כְּאִלּוּ הָיִינוּ 'בְּנֵי אַלְמָוֶת'
וּכְאִלוּ זְמַן יֵשׁ לַכֹּל. וְלַהֶעְדֵּר,
אוֹ לַמִּלָּה הַטּוֹבָה, אוֹ לַשְּׁתִיקָה.
5
וְעַד שֶׁבָּא תוֹרִי לְהָעִיד נִשְׁתַּכְּחוּ מִמֶּנִּי רֹב הַפְּרָטִים.
הַמִּלִּים לֹא נַעֲנוּ לַאֲחֵרִים, שֶׁזָּכַרְתִּי.
בִּקַּשְׁתִּי לוֹמַר אֵיזֶה דְּבָרִים לִכְבוֹד הַנּוֹפְלִים בְּמִלְחָמָה.
מַשֶּׁהוּ בִּי הִתְבַּלְבֵּל. הַמִּלִּים נִנְעֲלוּ בִּגְרוֹנִי.
אָמְרוּ לִי לְהִשָּׁאֵר בִּמְקוֹמִי. בִּמְקוֹם לְהַמְשִׁיךְ וְלָשֶׁבֶת קַמְתִּי.
חָשַׁבְתִּי אֲדַבֵּר עַל הַשִּׂמְחָה.
וְעַל הָעָוֶל, הַיֹּפִי,
עַל הָעֲשׁוּקִים וְהַדִּמְעָה.
הָיָה גַּם מַשֶּׁהוּ שֶׁדָּחַקְתִּי שָׁנִים וּמִשּׁוּם-מָה נִרְאָה לְפֶתַע חָשׁוּב,
אוּלַי מוּטָב אֶנְקֹט לָשׁוֹן עֲקִיפָה
- סוֹף-סוֹף לֹא אֲנִי כָּאן הַנֶּאֱשָׁם –
וּמִי אֲנִי שֶׁאַגִּיד עַל הַמְּדִינָה וְדִינָהּ.
לְפָנַי דִּבְּרוּ אֲחֵרִים. הַדְּבָרִים הִתְאָרְכוּ.
הֹעֲלוּ צְדָדִים לְחִיּוּב וּצְדָדִים לִשְׁלִילָה.
דְּבַר-מָה הִתְעַיֵּף. חִפֵּשׂ לָשׁוּב לְדוֹמֵם,
כְּמוֹ קִיר שֶׁקָּרַס, חֵלֵק-דִּבּוּר
אוֹ מִשְׁפָּט, דִּמּוּי שֶׁאָבַד, צוּרָה
פְּרָטִית שֶׁל שְׁקִיעָה
מִמֵּילָא הָעֵדוּת לֹא הָיְתָה כְּבָר שְׁלֵמָה,
הַשּׁוֹפְטִים הָיוּ צְעִירִים,
גַּם הָרָצוֹן לְהַגִּיד מַשֶּׁהוּ, עַכְשָׁו, לֹא הָיָה.
6
וְהַיֶּלֶד שֶׁפַּעַם הָיִיתִי
נִשְׁאָר: מוֹצֵץ עַכְשָׁו מִקְטֶרֶת,
שֶׁפִּיָּתָהּ אֲכוּלָה כְּמוֹ כָּל הַשָּׁנִים הָאֵלֶּה
וּכְמוֹ שָׁפְכוּ עַל כָּל הַשָּׁנִים הָאֵלֶּה חֻמְצָה.
וְצִלְצוּל הַטֶּלֶפוֹן לוֹ חִכִּיתִי כָּל הַשָּׁבוּעַ
וַאֲשֶׁר הִקְפִּיץ אֶת לִבִּי,
הִתְגַּלָּה כְּ'טָעוּת'.
נִשְׁתַּכַּח גַּם הוּא בֵּינְתַיִם.
וְהַדֹּאַר שֶׁחִכִּינוּ לוֹ לֹא בָּא.
וְהַדְּמוּת הַמִּשְׁתַּקֶּפֶת עַכְשָׁו בַּמַּרְאָה לֹא אֲמִינָה.
From: Mare Nostrum
THE COLD AND THE HEAT
1It was impossible to hold onto anything.
I didn’t even embrace my mother as one should
And didn’t part from her as one does before a trip,
When we sat and spoke all night
And said warm things,
Sometimes excited,
That ‘would last for the years to come’.
“There was no time to prepare you,”
She would later write, from her ‘new house’, interpreting
The words ‘in the desert’.
Nor did I manage to tell you.
2
And the woman who glowed once
At intermission, in the concert hall,
Le Casque d’Or,
Far from the blast of The Trojans,
Is gone. Amazing how she left no trace
Or evidence,
Aside perhaps from an invisible groove
In a greying cell of the brain,
Like wagon wheels leave
In the mud and slush, in autumn.
“It was impossible to see you”.
3
And the heat that once was in me became a liquid that froze:
A dirty block of ice,
Halley’s Comet,
An evil omen, they said,
A rare visitor in our skies,
A tourist in the Solar System,
A subject of wonder
Once every few years.
Everything came by surprise, like a sudden gust of air,
A heat wave or a cold wave
And as it passed, was gone.
4
And the years were pressed and dense and swifter than we were,
People entered and left in them
In a hurry,
Uttered something and disappeared.
In the closet objects were left and the clothes
Of some who no longer were with us,
The heart was done with them,
Some saw it as a proof.
It was impossible to understand a thing.
There was no time for anything. It was impossible to hold onto
Anything. But we acted as if we were ‘immortals’,
And as if there was time for it all. And for the absence,
Or the good word, or the silence.
5
And by the time it was my turn to testify, I had forgotten most of the details.
The words did not respond to those I remembered.
I wanted to say a few things in honour of those who fell in the war.
Something inside me got confused. The words were locked in my throat.
I was told to stay in my place. Instead of remaining seated I got up.
I thought I would speak about joy,
About injustice, about beauty,
The oppressed and the tear.
There was also something I’d repressed for years and which for some reason suddenly seemed important.
Perhaps I should use indirect speech here,
After all it’s not me who is the accused,
And who am I to pronounce myself about the State and its Law.
Others spoke before me. Things were drawn out.
Positive and negative sides were brought up.
Something got tired; wanted to return to a still,
Like a wall that had crumbled, a part of a speech
Or a sentence, an image that was lost, a private form of
Resignation –
In any case the testimony was no longer complete,
The judges were young,
Also the desire to say something, now, was gone.
6
And the child I once was
Remains. Now chewing on a pipe,
Whose mouthpiece is eaten like all those years,
As if acid were poured on all those years.
And the phone call I was waiting for all week
And that made my heart jump –
Turned out to be a ‘wrong number’.
Meanwhile, that too has been forgotten.
And the mail we were waiting for didn’t come.
And the image reflected now in the mirror is no longer credible.
© 2013, Linda Zisquit
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