Reparations
Zeev Kachel,1966
You're asking me to put here in writing, once more,
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
To list in detail, then describe and refine
And bring two witnesses tomorrow to sign?
My father's gold watch—I could just hear the sound
Had three lids that were shining
Reflected in it I could see us, standing around
All faces aglow and rejoicing.
The watch also had a heavy gold chain
Coiled twice over, over his vein
The tips of its hands gave a hint of a spark
Shooting green glow, right into the dark
It ticked, counting years for each girl and boy
Marking seasons, holidays, morning and night
I remember Sabbath candles flickering with joy
Sparkling brightly, like starlight.
You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
There was an old synagogue my grandpa had built
Burning scrolls, flying ash, dying spirit
Ancient Torah aflame, letters lifting, all gilt
Thou shall not kill, shall not steal, shall not covet
And there was my sister: delicate, tender
In her eyes I remember a twinkle
Her name was Batia, my beloved little sister
She grew up—and then—it was simple:
She grew up and married, and gave birth to a son
With a blue glint in his eyes, and a dimple
Blond hair, just like a pure 'Aryan'—
The murderers, they threw him right into the Nile
There were aunts, and uncles, boys and girls in our midst
The murderers decreed: they should not exist
You're asking me to record, on paper to pour
All that I lost, my esteemed counselor?
I demand to return, reopen that door
Find parents and sister, each girl and boy
Back there in that synagogue, with that spirit of yore
Sabbath candles aflame, father's voice filled with joy.
It's not property I ask for, not mere pieces of land—
Hebrew school, friends around, all of us in one band
With hope that inspired to survive, to withstand.
Bring the murderers to trial, that is all I demand.
You will not understand; it's of no great import—
I demand that which had been cut short.
We Were Born in Darkness
Zeev Kachel, 1988
We were born in darkness, crying a fit
And like grains of sand, countless stars came up, lit,
We wanted to turn back to the warm womb
Instead we were wrapped by chill and by gloom
Born in darkness, we labored so hard
To find our way in this universe
We were greeted by its hug, its cruelty, its curse
Its predators' jaws... We’re forced to traverse.
Ma, why did you fool me, what was it for,
When you sang me a lullaby, not a song of war?
Oh why did you hide the fateful truth from me
We were born in darkness, our life—not to be?
After You've Gone
Zeev Kachel
Somewhere at night a string sings out
All's dark, silent, filled with doubt
I'm alone, and you?
Out there, in the cold, a string sings out
Forgive me ma, that under your wing
A poet grew, only to sing
Forgive me ma, I knew no way but run
I was a defiant son!
In your life I sang you no songs, but now I miss—
Forgive me ma, that I wiped off your kiss
Which you gave me, thinking I were asleep...
Now, after you're gone, I confess and I weep
I loved no one like you!
After you were gone, I knew
I had travelled to a place so alien, so cold
How bitter it had felt, to you I never told.
How you waited to receive a word from me, a letter,
How I missed you! Only now I know better
No longer am I ashamed to say, to try:
Forgive me ma, now at last I am allowed to cry.
Childhood Years
Zeev Kachel
Childhood years, a realm of dreams and charms
How fast you petered out, forever lost to me
How fast you hurtled away, without a harness
Race on, Troika, bells ringing with such jubilee
How fast it all passed away forever,
Galloped away, as if it never was:
But somewhere in the mist, with such a quiet measure
Someone sings for me without a pause
Only yesterday we threw each other snowballs
Only yesterday we played games of pretend,
Only yesterday we swam there, right across the creek
And told each other stories, of which I won't speak
Around us is a boundless, snowy marvel
And you, my little sister, pressed against my heart
Wail of wolves, and ma beside us, fearful
Horses trotting, trotting... Our childhood, cut short
In the distance, you seem to spot a shelter
But all I see is an endless universe
Come on, Troika!4 Snow sparkles on your lashes
Lets charge to the horizon, let us chart our course!
My Teachers
Zeev Kachel, 1991
My first art teacher was the chill
The chill that painted forests and cities
Across my window pane, with icicles and frost
In Poland, she whose hate scorched Jews, and wished us ill
She who set my heart burning to sail to a new coast
My second teacher was time
Time that tipped my hair with silver over and again
Time that whitened my mustache, even in my prime
Time like a wolf’s wail, flowing in my vein
My third teacher was the dream
The dream that I nurtured from the day I was born
In an era of storms that flared up with a scream
The dream that grew in me, to which I was sworn
They punished me harshly with their rods
Instilled joy of creation within my crumbling walls.
Fall
Zeev Kachel
Leaves are falling
And an Autumn wind is blowing.
I'm alone.
Ringing in my ear
Is it you, who's thinking about me?
The walls close in upon me, like a prison.
I dreamt a dream that I'm still a child,
Here's home.
In a minute the door will open
Letting in my parents, my sister.
I'm foolishly beguiled!
They were all swept off by a gust, into the wild
I'm alone
No longer a child.
Memory
Zeev Kachel, 1987
When the past becomes your present
And follows you everywhere
Like a hunting dog, it's so intent
Then memory becomes despair
Memory, in a sudden spell
Then becomes your daily routine
Reality turns into hell
A crazy race to the unseen
You set your ladder on a ripple
No wonder that you fell, you cripple
Every Day I Tear A Leaf
Zeev Kachel, 1964
Every day I tear a leaf
From my calendar, blanched by the sun
Here's spring... It is
so brief
Leaves now falling, one by one...
Once more it's spring, the fragrance's sweet
And blossom spreads again, again
With graying hair, there in the street
I sit: a lonely, crestfallen man
Do you remember: a student’s room
With a single narrow iron bed
That eve, of golden summer bloom
We fried potatoes, words unsaid
The plates we set down on the floor
And filled our glass with cheap, warm wine
Between our kisses, love we swore...
For that lost moment, how I pine!
A star came on, peeking in
Out of the depth of a strange, dark night
The entire world was here within
A serenade of love, delight
She and I
Zeev Kachel
I'm dying to sleep, but oh
She's eager to get going
All because of a little window
And tempers that are blowing
I close it gingerly
So she demands it open
I want to sleep, but woefully
She'll shake it till it's broken
By nature she's outgoing
I'm quiet, her willing complement
She's totally inconsistent
Consistently my opposite
She craves parties, more and more
While a lone wolf am I
Her desire—a burly sailor
While a dreamy poet I
She longs for flowers
And I—for chocolate
She wants adventure at all hours
While I dream only ‘bout my ballad
I want the window closed
And she prefers it open
She hates that I have snored
In concerts, and never woken
She wants to learn to drive
While I can die of fright
The drive is easier to survive
When in the back we're hugging tight
She deserves dresses galore
And a burning passion
Yet I have only two loves, no more:
My homeland and my nation
Two loves that I adore
Are me, and you with a bouquet
And one more
The Sabbath day.
Lie to Me
Zeev Kachel, 1975
Lie to me, it’s your way to give
Lie well, and I will trust you
The only one able to forgive
Is my heart, so true
Lie and I will trust you
Go aead, lie well
'Cause joy's dead, it's all but through
Once the pain I quell
Then we'll raise an empty glass,
Each one of us alone, to toast
A version of truth, which now we pass
As our life, almost.
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