As water conjures fire and fire water, I discovered
that within I bore a boy who bore
my own name whom I had not thanked .
That night I dreamed of the field
of folk-the man with the fistful
of radishes, the passionate one, and the neighbor
whose granddaughter's eyes were closing for ever
and ever, and the hippie babysitter
with the white dog on the white leash, and
the CPA with the lemon Bonaventure. All seemed
to look on me with pity, as though
they knew my fate, knew its necessity.
I woke and there on the brilliant field outside
my window they were gathered,
a congregation circling the boy
I bore who bore my name, all staring
at the little flower on
the peach tree [ had planted in my sleep.
MICHAL GOVRIN
Can't
You
See
Can't you see that I am carried
to
you on a sea of death
not on the Styx-that noble river in a marble Inferno
No Charon leads the raft
On my cheeks still lie the curls of the brother
in whose death llive
His breath is the wind in my hair
