Oh, for those socialist evenings...

As I commented on
  • David's
  • blog, his poem reminded me of childhood memories I have of
    "Intellectual" type evenings", as in the old days of the Jewish Bund, in Europe before WWII. My parents (may they rest in peace) often had 'literature/social/political' evenings at our apartment in NY.
    My mother as a youth had been a member of "haShomer haTza'ir". My father, who was an outstanding Hebrew poet (but almost totally unknown) and his colleages read from their poetry; American & British poets as well as the great "modern" Jewish writers, such as Ehad HaAm, Shaul Tschernichovsky, Chayim Nachman Bialik, '/Shin Yud Agnon' , Rachel, Shalom Aleichem - to name just a few - were read and discussed.
    These evenings included heated political discussions, arguments/ideas flew back and forth. And I listened in from my bed, through the wall...
    I was considering starting a second blog solely for the purpose of posting my father's poetry, but I decided, I'm spending enough time (wasting my time, as my husband says) on this blog, so I'll just add them to this blog. The only problem is that the poetry is in Ivrit, so I am hoping that all of you will be able to read it.
    Also, with poetry you need every nuance, every punctuation mark, and as I didn't scan this, this poetry post doesn't have any of that. I tried to type in 'ktiv maleh' wherever possible in order to better enable comprehension, but it's not perfect. Please let me know if translations are needed.

    This poem was composed by my father during the Yom Kippur war, after he had returned to Israel some years after my mother's death. It was published in the Israeli newspaper Maariv on 3 May, 1974. It is called (loosely translated): By Us, We Don't Cry.

    אצלנו אין בוכים
    רק השקט המסנור
    רק שטף הבנה
    ,עם שלש נקודות אחריה
    תרגלנו לעצמנו את המות
    בקילומטר האיום שלאחר חצות
    לפני מחר פתאומי
    - עוד אביך
    ; המחר שעוד אביך
    , רק בלחיצת יד רבותי
    , רק בדמע מוסתר מאחורי הגב
    -כי אצלינו אין בוכים
    אין בוכים
    ...שלא לזעזע את השקט


    Anonymous said…
    Hi, I found you through Jerusalem Cop- it sounds like you had a fantastic household to grow up in- You are very fortunate!
    Lady-Light said…
    Thank you. I had an excellent Jewish education, and parents who were scholars. They exposed me to art and literature at a young age (I loved going to musuems, and my mother told me that at 2 years old, I was humming arias from operas)I had a love of Judasim and Israel instilled in me from the time I was little.
    My fondest childhood memories are of celebrating the chagim together: Shabbat, the Pesach Seder, Succot in the Rabbi's sukkah. There was an 'otherworldliness about them. A Kedushah which I tried to pass on to my family.
    I tried to impart just a fraction of all that to my children. They didn't take to the art and literature so much - but they sure took off on Torah, Judasim and Israel. (Most of them!)
    toodles said…
    wow, that poem was really beautiful, but i didn't understand all of it.
    toodles said…
    ha! i finally commented.
    Oleh Yahshan said…
    This has nothing to do with your post but rather your comment left on my (and my wife's) blog.

    My wife noted that she tried to find your email address on your site and couldn't in order to get in touch.
    if you would like - Email me at webmaster"at"me-ontarget.com and we will be in touch via that - please make the Subject obviuos since it is an open email therefore Spam is an issue!

    Shabbat Shalom,
    Lady-Light said…
    I emailed you through your profile address, as your wife suggested.
    Hope you get my email. We'll take it from there!
    How long have you two lived in Israel?
    Oleh Yahshan said…
    I will ask my wife to check the Email

    I have been living in Isreal for 22 (out of my 25) years. My wife is in her 2nd year now (and loving it if I may add)
    ayala said…
    it's beautiful. may his neshama have an aliya for every time this poem is read.
    Lady-Light said…
    Thank you so much for your kind words; I am overwhelmed by your remarks. My father was a humble man, a teacher, who never promoted himself. Thus, very few know about his work, and the fact that he even translated Shakespeare (Measure for Measure) into Ivrit. In his lifetime he published only one thin little book of poetry, (with lots of jottings and notes for future poetry which was never published) and I feel that I owe it to him to 'publicize' his work, if no place else, in my unimportant little blog...
    Thanks so much....
    These stories and memories are priceless...
    Hmm..I have to work on these poems...

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