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  Reparations

  Zeev Kachel,1966

  You're asking me to put here in writing, once more,

  All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?

  To list in detail, then describe and refine

  And bring two witnesses tomorrow to sign?

  My father's gold watch—I could just hear the sound    

  Had three lids that were shining

  Reflected in it I could see us, standing around

  All faces aglow and rejoicing.

  The watch also had a heavy gold chain

  Coiled twice over, over his vein

  The tips of its hands gave a hint of a spark

  Shooting green glow, right into the dark   

  It ticked, counting years for each girl and boy

  Marking seasons, holidays, morning and night

  I remember Sabbath candles flickering with joy

  Sparkling brightly, like starlight.

  You're asking me to record, on paper to pour 

  All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?

  There was an old synagogue my grandpa had built

  Burning scrolls, flying ash, dying spirit

  Ancient Torah aflame, letters lifting, all gilt

  Thou shall not kill, shall not steal, shall not covet

  And there was my sister: delicate, tender

  In her eyes I remember a twinkle 

  Her name was Batia, my beloved little sister

  She grew up—and then—it was simple:

  She grew up and married, and gave birth to a son

  With a blue glint in his eyes, and a dimple 

  Blond hair, just like a pure 'Aryan'—

  The murderers, they threw him right into the Nile 

  There were aunts, and uncles, boys and girls in our midst

  The murderers decreed: they should not exist

  You're asking me to record, on paper to pour 

  All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?

  I demand to return, reopen that door

  Find parents and sister, each girl and boy

  Back there in that synagogue, with that spirit of yore

  Sabbath candles aflame, father's voice filled with joy.

  It's not property I ask for, not mere pieces of land—

  Hebrew school, friends around, all of us in one band 

  With hope that inspired to survive, to withstand.

  Bring the murderers to trial, that is all I demand.

  You will not understand; it's of no great import—

  I demand that which had been cut short.

 

  We Were Born in Darkness

  Zeev Kachel, 1988

  We were born in darkness, crying a fit

  And like grains of sand, countless stars came up, lit, 

  We wanted to turn back to the warm womb  

  Instead we were wrapped by chill and by gloom

  Born in darkness, we labored so hard

  To find our way in this universe 

  We were greeted by its hug, its cruelty, its curse

  Its predators' jaws... We’re forced to traverse. 

  Ma, why did you fool me, what was it for,

  When you sang me a lullaby, not a song of war?

  Oh why did you hide the fateful truth from me

  We were born in darkness, our life—not to be?

 

  After You've Gone

  Zeev Kachel

  Somewhere at night a string sings out

  All's dark, silent, filled with doubt

  I'm alone, and you?

  Out there, in the cold, a string sings out

  Forgive me ma, that under your wing

  A poet grew, only to sing

  Forgive me ma, I knew no way but run

  I was a defiant son!

  In your life I sang you no songs, but now I miss—

  Forgive me ma, that I wiped off your kiss

  Which you gave me, thinking I were asleep...

  Now, after you're gone, I confess and I weep

  I loved no one like you!

  After you were gone, I knew

  I had travelled to a place so alien, so cold

  How bitter it had felt, to you I never told.

  How you waited to receive a word from me, a letter,

  How I missed you! Only now I know better

  No longer am I ashamed to say, to try:

  Forgive me ma, now at last I am allowed to cry.

 

  Childhood Years

  Zeev Kachel

  Childhood years, a realm of dreams and charms

  How fast you petered out, forever lost to me

  How fast you hurtled away, without a harness

  Race on, Troika, bells ringing with such jubilee

  How fast it all passed away forever,

  Galloped away, as if it never was:

  But somewhere in the mist, with such a quiet measure

  Someone sings for me without a pause

  Only yesterday we threw each other snowballs

  Only yesterday we played games of pretend,

  Only yesterday we swam there, right across the creek

  And told each other stories, of which I won't speak

  Around us is a boundless, snowy marvel

  And you, my little sister, pressed against my heart

  Wail of wolves, and ma beside us, fearful

  Horses trotting, trotting... Our childhood, cut short

  In the distance, you seem to spot a shelter

  But all I see is an endless universe

  Come on, Troika!4 Snow sparkles on your lashes

  Lets charge to the horizon, let us chart our course!

 

  My Teachers

  Zeev Kachel, 1991

  My first art teacher was the chill

  The chill that painted forests and cities

  Across my window pane, with icicles and frost

  In Poland, she whose hate scorched Jews, and wished us ill

  She who set my heart burning to sail to a new coast

  My second teacher was time

  Time that tipped my hair with silver over and again

  Time that whitened my mustache, even in my prime

  Time like a wolf’s wail, flowing in my vein

  My third teacher was the dream

  The dream that I nurtured from the day I was born

  In an era of storms that flared up with a scream

  The dream that grew in me, to which I was sworn

  They punished me harshly with their rods

  Instilled joy of creation within my crumbling walls.

 

  Fall

  Zeev Kachel

  Leaves are falling

  And an Autumn wind is blowing.

  I'm alone.

  Ringing in my ear

  Is it you, who's thinking about me?

  The walls close in upon me, like a prison.

  I dreamt a dream that I'm still a child,

  Here's home.

  In a minute the door will open

  Letting in my parents, my sister.

  I'm foolishly beguiled!

  They were all swept off by a gust, into the wild

  I'm alone

  No longer a child.

 

  Memory

  Zeev Kachel, 1987

  When the past becomes your present

  And follows you everywhere

  Like a hunting dog, it's so intent

  Then memory becomes despair

  Memory, in a sudden spell

  Then becomes your daily routine

  Reality turns into hell

  A crazy race to the unseen

  You set your ladder on a ripple

  No wonder that you fell, you cripple

 

  Every Day I Tear A Leaf

  Zeev Kachel, 1964

  Every day I tear a leaf

  From my calendar, blanched by the sun

  Here's spring... It is
so brief

  Leaves now falling, one by one...

  Once more it's spring, the fragrance's sweet

  And blossom spreads again, again

  With graying hair, there in the street

  I sit: a lonely, crestfallen man

  Do you remember: a student’s room

  With a single narrow iron bed

  That eve, of golden summer bloom

  We fried potatoes, words unsaid

  The plates we set down on the floor

  And filled our glass with cheap, warm wine

  Between our kisses, love we swore...

  For that lost moment, how I pine!

  A star came on, peeking in

  Out of the depth of a strange, dark night

  The entire world was here within

  A serenade of love, delight

 

  She and I

  Zeev Kachel

  I'm dying to sleep, but oh

  She's eager to get going

  All because of a little window

  And tempers that are blowing

  I close it gingerly

  So she demands it open

  I want to sleep, but woefully

  She'll shake it till it's broken

  By nature she's outgoing

  I'm quiet, her willing complement

  She's totally inconsistent

  Consistently my opposite

  She craves parties, more and more

  While a lone wolf am I

  Her desire—a burly sailor

  While a dreamy poet I

  She longs for flowers

  And I—for chocolate

  She wants adventure at all hours

  While I dream only ‘bout my ballad

  I want the window closed

  And she prefers it open

  She hates that I have snored

  In concerts, and never woken

  She wants to learn to drive

  While I can die of fright

  The drive is easier to survive

  When in the back we're hugging tight

  She deserves dresses galore

  And a burning passion

  Yet I have only two loves, no more:

  My homeland and my nation

  Two loves that I adore

  Are me, and you with a bouquet

  And one more

  The Sabbath day.

 

  Lie to Me

  Zeev Kachel, 1975

  Lie to me, it’s your way to give

  Lie well, and I will trust you

  The only one able to forgive

  Is my heart, so true

  Lie and I will trust you

  Go aead, lie well

  'Cause joy's dead, it's all but through

  Once the pain I quell

  Then we'll raise an empty glass,

  Each one of us alone, to toast

  A version of truth, which now we pass

  As our life, almost.