Gedicht
Chaim Nachman Bialik
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Once more. Look: a spent old scarecrowshrivelled face
straw-dry shadow
swaying like a leaf
bending and swaying over books.
Once more. Look: a spent old crone
weaving and weaving
knitted stockings
mouth full of curses
lips forever mumbling curses.
There’s the household cat
has not moved since I left,
still dreaming by the stove
playing cat and mouse
in his dream.
And as ever, in darkness
the spider weaves
hanging its web
full of swollen fly corpses
in the dark west corner.
You’ve not changed:
All old as the hills.
Nothing new.
I’ll join you, old cronies!
Together we’ll rot till we stink.
© Translation: 1981, Ruth Nevo
From: Chaim Nachman Bialik: The Selected Poems
Publisher: Dvir, Tel Aviv, 1981
From: Chaim Nachman Bialik: The Selected Poems
Publisher: Dvir, Tel Aviv, 1981
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From: Shirim
Publisher: Dvir, Tel Aviv
Publisher: Dvir, Tel Aviv
Gedichten
Gedichten van Chaim Nachman Bialik
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RETURN
From: Shirim
Return
Once more. Look: a spent old scarecrowshrivelled face
straw-dry shadow
swaying like a leaf
bending and swaying over books.
Once more. Look: a spent old crone
weaving and weaving
knitted stockings
mouth full of curses
lips forever mumbling curses.
There’s the household cat
has not moved since I left,
still dreaming by the stove
playing cat and mouse
in his dream.
And as ever, in darkness
the spider weaves
hanging its web
full of swollen fly corpses
in the dark west corner.
You’ve not changed:
All old as the hills.
Nothing new.
I’ll join you, old cronies!
Together we’ll rot till we stink.
© 1981, Ruth Nevo
From: Chaim Nachman Bialik: The Selected Poems
Publisher: 1981, Dvir, Tel Aviv
From: Chaim Nachman Bialik: The Selected Poems
Publisher: 1981, Dvir, Tel Aviv
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