mercredi 22 juillet 2015


"For the Lamed-waf are the hearts of the world multiplied, and into them, as into one receptacle, pour all our griefs.” — from Le dernier des justes by Andre Schwarz-Bart

I am Lamed-vov
the last of the just
and I'll tear my hair out
before I'm done
if God will permit me
and of this indeed
nothing is less certain
for I must stand
and bear it all 
as recompense for
what I've done and
what came before
when I was nary a thought
a dove on an olive branch
that traversed the great
Mediterranean cradle
and its salt-encrusted air
clung to my skin
and made it brittle

The ultimate rejection
by everyone I loved
is not a simple fruit
to carry in one's womb
but a heavy pit
of infinite sadness
every bit as unbearable
as Demeter's grief
or any mother who
lost her child to death
or misfortune
or rejection
choose your poison
or an unjust God will
choose it for you
and then you will
cleave to him because
he is all you have left
abandoned in the middle
of the great forest

Your little clay hut
molded by your hands
out of water and mud
a tepid oil lamp burning
on the hearthstone
beads running through
your fingers upon which
you count the names of
everyone you've loved
the dearly departed
the vagabonds
and the children
alive and buried
and each one a blessing 

Thamar - Hans Collaert


2 commentaires:

marinela a dit…

A bleeding heart in the desert where nothing moves except the sand. Come out of that space and ask for joy as you did nothing wrong in your life. All is part of the journey. If I could be a white dove, I will bring you an olive branch; If I could be the sea, I will wash your sorrow; If I could be the wind I will blow away the pain...and I may be all of them to lift you to a higher octave where there is no pain but light. I loved your poem beautiful lady.And from the Land of gods I am sending you love in a shell. Marinela

Laura Tattoo a dit…

So much beautiful love in your heart, Marinela, and i am grateful for it. A wonderful healing prayer. xoxooxoxox