Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Adi Keissar

Anatomy

Everyone always speaks of the heart.
But what about the kidneys?
Don’t they know how to love?
And the liver?
Didn’t all the chocolate words
that were spoken to us melt in it?
And the fingernails,
don’t they bloom like flowers
when the blood says spring?
And don’t the bowels hold
all the words that were hurled at us
like heavy stones?
Don’t the lungs remember
the moment
they chose us
from all the people in the world?
And the navel, doesn’t it feel
how they cut the cord
and we were torn from the person
we once lived in
and lives inside us?
Everyone always speaks of the heart.

אנטומיה

אנטומיה

כָל הַזְמַן מְדַבְרִּים עַל הַלֵב.וּמה עִּם הַכְלָיוֹת?
הֵן לֹא יוֹדְעוֹת לֶאֱהֹב?
וְהַכָבֵד?
לֹא נָמַסוּ ב ו כָל מִּלוֹת הַשוֹקוֹלָד
שֶאָמְרוּ לָנוּ?
וְהַצִּפָרְנַיִּם, בְאֶצְבְעוֹת הַיָדַיִּם
לֹא צוֹמְחוֹת כְמ ו פְרָחִּים
כְשֶהַדָם אָמַר אָבִּיב?
וְהַקֵבָה לֹא מַחְזִּיקָה בְתוֹכָהּ
אֶת כָל הַמִּלִּים שֶזָרְקוּ עָלֵינוּ
כְמ ו אֲבָנִּים כְבֵדוֹת?
וְהָרֵאוֹת לֹא זוֹכְרוֹת
אֶת הָרֶגַע הַהוּא
שֶבָחֲרוּ בָנוּ
בָנוּ
מִּכָל הָאֲנָשִּים בָעוֹלָם?
וְהַטַבוּר לֹא מַרְגִּיש
אֵיךְ נִּתְקוּ אֶת הַחֶבֶל
וְנִּשְ מ טנוּ מֵהָאָדָם
שֶפַעַם חָיִּינוּ בְתוֹכ ו
וְהוּא חַי בָנוּ?

כָל הַזְמַן מְדַבְרִּים עַל הַלֵב.

Close

Anatomy

Everyone always speaks of the heart.
But what about the kidneys?
Don’t they know how to love?
And the liver?
Didn’t all the chocolate words
that were spoken to us melt in it?
And the fingernails,
don’t they bloom like flowers
when the blood says spring?
And don’t the bowels hold
all the words that were hurled at us
like heavy stones?
Don’t the lungs remember
the moment
they chose us
from all the people in the world?
And the navel, doesn’t it feel
how they cut the cord
and we were torn from the person
we once lived in
and lives inside us?
Everyone always speaks of the heart.

Anatomy

Everyone always speaks of the heart.
But what about the kidneys?
Don’t they know how to love?
And the liver?
Didn’t all the chocolate words
that were spoken to us melt in it?
And the fingernails,
don’t they bloom like flowers
when the blood says spring?
And don’t the bowels hold
all the words that were hurled at us
like heavy stones?
Don’t the lungs remember
the moment
they chose us
from all the people in the world?
And the navel, doesn’t it feel
how they cut the cord
and we were torn from the person
we once lived in
and lives inside us?
Everyone always speaks of the heart.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère