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greenstormI suspect you'll appreciate this one, Writer, or perhaps I'm just thinking of you sitting there with the letter opener that day.
Gifts of Love
I gave them to you
for your earlobes, your fingers. I gilded
the time on your wrist,
I hung lots of glittery things on you
so you'd sway for me in the wind, so you'd chime softly over me
to soothe my sleep.
I comforted you with apples, as it says
in the Song of Songs,
I lined your bed with them,
so we could roll smoothly on red-apple bearings.
I covered your skin with a pink chiffon,
transparent as baby lizards - the ones with
black diamond eyes on summer nights.
You helped me live for a couple of months
without needing religion
or a point of view.
You gave me a letter opener made of silver.
Real letters aren't opened that way;
they're torn open,
torn, <>torn.
Yehuda Amichai
(tr. from the Hebrew by Assia Gutmann)
Gifts of Love
I gave them to you
for your earlobes, your fingers. I gilded
the time on your wrist,
I hung lots of glittery things on you
so you'd sway for me in the wind, so you'd chime softly over me
to soothe my sleep.
I comforted you with apples, as it says
in the Song of Songs,
I lined your bed with them,
so we could roll smoothly on red-apple bearings.
I covered your skin with a pink chiffon,
transparent as baby lizards - the ones with
black diamond eyes on summer nights.
You helped me live for a couple of months
without needing religion
or a point of view.
You gave me a letter opener made of silver.
Real letters aren't opened that way;
they're torn open,
torn, <>torn.
Yehuda Amichai
(tr. from the Hebrew by Assia Gutmann)
