That very morning after the guests said,
"Your branches are as splendid as paradise", the order was given: Cut them off!
Now my clenched fists fall to earth,
their anger evaporating in teh sun.
.
I should have contracted inside myself.
A war is taking place in the yard. Bitter as wollves,
man and tree mark off their sovereign borders.
.
I see throug his eyes: shadows of drops on the path,
a ticket advancing him.
But how to stop?
.
A garden, darkness-filled mouth,
its eyes lids blinking.
its lust-spotted stamens drawn out,
setting fire to the ice of the jasmine.
.
Did the invade in order to heal,
to illuminate me to the edge of my darkness?
Now how will I fight on behalf of the garden?
I wrap myself in the shadow of my broken ribs.
.
Translation: Lisa Katz
.
About this Writer, in spanish, lok at the blog of Gerardo Lewin
http://decantasion.blogspot.com/search/label/Nurit%20Zarchi
