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In the Military Mobile Hospital
 

Who was born like me, in 1938,
Who looked for partners in his trip through life;
What other baby was conveyed home on the floor
Of an armored bus, while his young mother
Knelt over him, sheltering;
Or who else became a tourist
crossing over alien lands
his whole life but leaving
behind his shuddering
heart, flapping back there,
still in the military mobile hospital?

Always I remind myself:
We were only one year old when
The fate of our world was molded and altered
by a bloodbath, and our first words --
Compressed words, bad words -- became
Precisely the ancient amulet.

 
translated from Hebrew by the author and Ward Kelley
(c) All Rights reserved.
 
 

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