Poem
Ramy Ditzanny
WE MAKE LOVE IN A MILITARY CEMETERY
Late on Memorial Day we met at the graveyard’s wrought-iron door;I’m one hundred percent disabled, she – a young widow-of-war
(Of the last war, very likely, twenty three/four, couldn’t be more).
Had we met at roulette, exchanging a glance –
The rest of my nights I’d have staked all on a chance,
Had we met, moonlight led, at an occult séance –
I’d have spent all my days in deep joyous trance.
Had we met on the floor of a jazz ballet class –
I’d have whirled away my life in everlasting dance.
But it was in a graveyard we came face to face
Thus my heart goes forever wandering off to that place –
Dark silence. No breath. Our backs rest in peaceful green hair.
And from fertile earth rises warm misty air
...“Am I not an almost perfect Israeli lover?”
I enquire, eyes twinkling, in self-assured undertone –
“You’re one-hundred-percent!” she laughs, reassuring,
“Just don’t go tell it to them tombstones!”
© Translation: 2003, Ramy Ditzanny
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel, 2003
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel, 2003
בבית-עלמין צבאי
בבית-עלמין צבאי
נפגשנו לראשונה ביום-השנה
אני נכה מאה-אחוז והיא אלמנה
כנראה כמוני מהמלחמה האחרונה
לו פגשתיה בקרון-רכבת – היה לבי נשא למרחקים
לו פגשתיה ליד רולטה סובבת – היה לבי מכור למשחקים
לו פגשתיה בשדה-תלתן, פרח כוססת – הייתי נתק מן הטנק וחוזר לאספסת
אבל אני פגשתיה בבית-עולם
על-כן לבי ילך לשם, לבית-עולם, לבית-עולם
אין רוח שם. אויר דומם. והעשב רך. ומן האדמה יעלה אד חם
"נכון שאני מאהב-ישראלי כמעט משלם?" אני שואל בעינים שובבות,
."אתה מאה-אחוז!" היא צוחקת, "אבל אל תרוץ לספר למצבות"
© 2003, Ramy Ditzanny
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel
Poems
Poems of Ramy Ditzanny
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WE MAKE LOVE IN A MILITARY CEMETERY
Late on Memorial Day we met at the graveyard’s wrought-iron door;I’m one hundred percent disabled, she – a young widow-of-war
(Of the last war, very likely, twenty three/four, couldn’t be more).
Had we met at roulette, exchanging a glance –
The rest of my nights I’d have staked all on a chance,
Had we met, moonlight led, at an occult séance –
I’d have spent all my days in deep joyous trance.
Had we met on the floor of a jazz ballet class –
I’d have whirled away my life in everlasting dance.
But it was in a graveyard we came face to face
Thus my heart goes forever wandering off to that place –
Dark silence. No breath. Our backs rest in peaceful green hair.
And from fertile earth rises warm misty air
...“Am I not an almost perfect Israeli lover?”
I enquire, eyes twinkling, in self-assured undertone –
“You’re one-hundred-percent!” she laughs, reassuring,
“Just don’t go tell it to them tombstones!”
© 2003, Ramy Ditzanny
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: 2003, Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: 2003, Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel
WE MAKE LOVE IN A MILITARY CEMETERY
Late on Memorial Day we met at the graveyard’s wrought-iron door;I’m one hundred percent disabled, she – a young widow-of-war
(Of the last war, very likely, twenty three/four, couldn’t be more).
Had we met at roulette, exchanging a glance –
The rest of my nights I’d have staked all on a chance,
Had we met, moonlight led, at an occult séance –
I’d have spent all my days in deep joyous trance.
Had we met on the floor of a jazz ballet class –
I’d have whirled away my life in everlasting dance.
But it was in a graveyard we came face to face
Thus my heart goes forever wandering off to that place –
Dark silence. No breath. Our backs rest in peaceful green hair.
And from fertile earth rises warm misty air
...“Am I not an almost perfect Israeli lover?”
I enquire, eyes twinkling, in self-assured undertone –
“You’re one-hundred-percent!” she laughs, reassuring,
“Just don’t go tell it to them tombstones!”
© 2003, Ramy Ditzanny
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: 2003, Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel
From: Bleeding Land
Publisher: 2003, Yediot, Tel Aviv, Israel
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