נקישות בחלון הערב Taps at a Window on an Evening

נקישות בחלון הערב

 אבי חזר מן העבר השני כגשם.
במקום הפנוי לאורח
אני מניחה צלחת ריקה, מזלג, סכין
ומשערת כי לא ישאר זמן רב
המתים אינם ידועים ברעבונם לארז לבן ועדשים.
כתמיד, יעדיף לקרוא ב״אהבים וגשם״ של נגיב מחפוז
שקנה בכריכה רכה בעיר העתיקה לפני שנים.
זכרונות נאספים אל השולחן כתבשילי כח:
ידיו הרחבות של אבי אוחזות בידי וביד אחותי,
אוחזות במחרוזת המסבחה, במקטרת, בספרים,
באותה עדינות השמורה
לדברים שבירים.
 

Taps at a Window on an Evening

Like rain, my father came back from the other side. 
At the place left vacant for a guest
I lay an empty plate, a fork, a knife
And I sense he won’t stay long. 
The dead are not known for enjoying white rice and lentils. 
As ever, he’d prefer to read Nagib Mahfouz’s Love in the Rain
Which he bought years ago in the Old City in paperback. 
Memories are assembled at the table like nourishing dishes: 
The broad hands of my father grip my hand and my sister’s hand,
Grip the string of beads, the pipe, the books, 
With that same gentle restraint
For shattered things. 
 

Knocks on the window of the evening

My father came back from the second past like rain. 
In the vacant place for a guest
I prepare an empty plate, a fork, a knife
And I guess that he will not stay much time.
The dead are not famous for their hunger for white rice and lentils.
Like always, he will prefer to read “Lovers And Rain” by Nagib Mahfouz
Which he bought in a soft binding in the old city years ago.
Memories are collected to the table like dishes of power:  
The broad hands of my father grip my hand and the hand of my sister,
Grip the string of the beads, the pipe, the books,
With the same guarded delicacy
Of fragile things.
 

As with all good poems, the language here is patterned throughout by sounds and images which chime with one another. Trying to translate these effects through a two-hour workshop, we can bring some across into English. In the title, for instance, Micha Meyers, our guest translator, told us that the Hebrew utilises a beautiful play between the word for ‘knocks’ or ‘taps’ and its near-homonym ‘kisses’ which lurks in its shadow. In English, we couldn’t capture this particular effect. Nevertheless, we wanted to try and find ways to link the gentle quality of the tapping at the window with the repeated instances of rain and contradictory quality of gripping and gentle restraint explored by the ending. The poem seems motivated somehow by the contradictions that it examines, making present a father who has departed and capturing both a sense of distance and an intensity of care.

Edward Doegar, Commissioning Editor

Original Poem by

Batsheva Dori

Translated by

Micha Meyers with The Poetry Translation Workshop Language

Hebrew

Country

Israel