Karen Alkalay-Gut


 

About the translator: Karen Alkalay-Gut was born in London in the Blitz (March 29,1945), and was educated in the United States. She received her PhD in English literature at the University of Rochester. In 1972 She moved to Israel, and has been teaching poetry at Israeli universities since then. In 1977 she joined the faculty at Tel Aviv University where she teaches poetry. In addition to a biography of the poet Adelaide Crapsey, Alkalay-Gut has published numerous articles on modern American poetry, Victorian literature and fiction, as well as studies of Rock music and poetry. Her poetry publications include a number of books in English—most recently In My Skin (Sivan, 2000), The Love of Clothes and Nakedness (Sivan, 1999) and High Maintenance (Neamh, 2001). So Far So Good (Sivan) will be available in September, 2004. As a reader of her poetry, Alkalay-Gut’s experience has been varied. She has performed in places as diverse as the Library of Congress in Washington, the Nuyorican Poetry Cafe in New York, the U.S. Embassy in Tel Aviv and the Arab village of Tarshicha in the Galilee. Alkalay-Gut’s interest in multimedia poetry has resulted in a disk with the jazz pianist, Liz Magnes and performances in the Kennedy Center in Washington. Her most recent release is her CD with Roi Yarkoni and Ishay Sommer, Thin Lips,(which can be heard in part and purchased on: http://www.pookh.com) She has participated in sculpture exhibits (Bianelle, Ein Hod 1999), and art exhibits (Writers House, Tel Aviv 2000) with her multimedia projects and a poetry-fashion collection is projected for August, 2004.

And Many Nations

 1.

 And many nations shall come there and speak
 and I shall be among them,
 a man who bears to men
 a poem.

And they shall beat their swords
 into plough shares
 sometimes bearing spears
 sometimes hymns

and I shall be among them,
 a man who bears to men
 a poem.

2.

 Enemies are sometimes friends
 and the vigor of the horses
 raises the value of the rider –
 soldiers dead in battle
 are fallen forever

and the entire the life of peace
 is due to those awful deaths –

but poets in their life and death
 remain but poets

 and I shall be among them
 a man who carries to men
 a poem.

3.

 Violins are never warm
 if they are never in human hands
 and in summer, when the stones are warm
 the spirit is within them, perhaps like blood.

Man sometimes errs, curses, rages, quarrels
 but forgets at the passing of the storm
 and will say it has never been
 and will play other melodies

and I shall be among them
 a man who carries to men
 a poem.

Naim Araidi

First published in the Jerusalem Review

DEFECTION

 My father died during this war—
 I wasn’t there.
 My city escaped death in this war—
 I wasn’t there.

 Dark hours that occur once in a lifetime
 drifted away
 like clouds devoid of rain

 I haven’t mourned my father yet
 nor done my share
 in the war effort—

 On banks of misty pools
 I lie in wait
 to see the fish rise from
 half-meter depths

 and thus everything becomes softened
 beyond care,

 and the heart can not conceive.

Sabena Message

 

WORDS FOR A PHOTOGRAPH

This is my beloved.
The one on her right
is her brother who fell in Lebanon.

The one on the left
is her lover
before I came
into the picture.

She holds onto them tight
as if she knew she will lose them both.
From the side, the mother looks at them.
Her face looks like a browned cake
that time baked on too high a flame.

Asher Reich


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