Poem
Dvora Amir
AFTER THE FALL OF 1956
Lines of adhesive tape crossed the glass of the window, cut checkerboards with Margosa branches.Like sheaves of firecrackers thin strings burst out of the branches of the tree, dropped down
at their ends lanterns of golden fruit-ammunition for the children’s wars.
After that fall mother brought a basin of hot water to scrape the windowpane.
She tore lines back and forth making crosses in her eyes
saw her Dovid caught on the fence
and as though bandaging the wounds of a dead person to revive him she said in a whisper, “The war is over.”
© Translation: 1991, Linda Zisquit
From: Modern Hebrew Literature No. 6
Publisher: Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature, Ramat Gan, 1991
From: Modern Hebrew Literature No. 6
Publisher: Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature, Ramat Gan, 1991
AFTER THE FALL OF 1956
From: Be’ira itit (Slow Burning)
Publisher: Ha-kibbutz Ha-meuchad, Tel Aviv
Publisher: Ha-kibbutz Ha-meuchad, Tel Aviv
Poems
Poems of Dvora Amir
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AFTER THE FALL OF 1956
Lines of adhesive tape crossed the glass of the window, cut checkerboards with Margosa branches.Like sheaves of firecrackers thin strings burst out of the branches of the tree, dropped down
at their ends lanterns of golden fruit-ammunition for the children’s wars.
After that fall mother brought a basin of hot water to scrape the windowpane.
She tore lines back and forth making crosses in her eyes
saw her Dovid caught on the fence
and as though bandaging the wounds of a dead person to revive him she said in a whisper, “The war is over.”
© 1991, Linda Zisquit
From: Modern Hebrew Literature No. 6
Publisher: 1991, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature, Ramat Gan
From: Modern Hebrew Literature No. 6
Publisher: 1991, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature, Ramat Gan
AFTER THE FALL OF 1956
Lines of adhesive tape crossed the glass of the window, cut checkerboards with Margosa branches.Like sheaves of firecrackers thin strings burst out of the branches of the tree, dropped down
at their ends lanterns of golden fruit-ammunition for the children’s wars.
After that fall mother brought a basin of hot water to scrape the windowpane.
She tore lines back and forth making crosses in her eyes
saw her Dovid caught on the fence
and as though bandaging the wounds of a dead person to revive him she said in a whisper, “The war is over.”
© 1991, Linda Zisquit
From: Modern Hebrew Literature No. 6
Publisher: 1991, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature, Ramat Gan
From: Modern Hebrew Literature No. 6
Publisher: 1991, Institute for the Translation of Hebrew Literature, Ramat Gan
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