Carobs

 

Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner

Do you remember, in Juara, at the end
of my platoon leaders course, in that rainy
December?  I took
the wet military blanket
on my shoulders, and you were covered
with the sleeveless cape that I drew
for you from my belt?  Do you remember
the gleaming chalky rocks?
The whistle of the wind passing
through the trees?  And how we roamed
all night, looking for a piece
of dry ground?  Do you remember
how we were happy
anyway, on awakening, with first
light, when embracing we stumbled on
a broken stair, in front of your door,
and we stood suddenly flooded with the thick
flowing aroma of the flowering carobs?

 

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Halo
Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner

In spite of everything there was a brief moment of happiness:
in the ambulance, on the way from Jerusalem, facing
the sun setting over the hill of Kesalon.
Your military shirt gave off an odor
that I will never forget, and the look
in the eye of the driver in the mirror said:
Yes children, this is happiness. 
And the next day, late Saturday
afternoon, at the bus station in
Rehovot, the southern colony, traffic
stopped as we passed.
And I reached out my hand and felt
the halo of happiness that hovered
above our two heads.

 

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