Charlotte Cohen, Hazel Frankel
Likht
Der tate hot aropgenumen
dem opgehitn khanuke lomp,
shvarts baflektn,
kroyn un leyb,
odler un toyb
farigelt tsu zeyer palats,
akht brunems leydike,
oysgedreyte knoytn shtayf
mit eyl fun far a yorn
di naynstn brumen
der shames,der oyfze’er, der ontsinder,
der eyl ladish shteyndik leydik.
Er hot avekgeleykt papir
in kikh afn tish,
funandergemakht dem lomp,
avegeleykt di shroyfn mit di rigln,
yeder eyner keseyder
,gebrumendik hot er gearbet,
geshushket an faryorike filosofie,
mir gerlangt di shmate,
mir gezogt ikh zol es opputsn,
shtik bay shtik.
Af droysn
nito keyn blumen,
dos groz groy,
der himl leydik fun bloy;
ge-otemt vi in volkns,
opraybendik di hent
antkegn di kelt.
Lebn tsum fayer
hob ikh zikh shtil gearbet,
unter der oyg fun dem odler,
ver hot oysgeruft tsu mir,
beys mir hobn yeden zikorn polirt,
biz es hot geglantst,
es vayter tsurekhtgemakht
biz es iz geshtanen vi a mol
keseder,
in geherikn ort,
leyb mit kroyn,
odler mit toyb,
dekl mit brunem,
eyl mit knoytl,
yeder tsu zayn tsvek.
Yene nakht hobn mir ongetsundn dos ershte likhtl,
maoz tsur gezungn,
Yehudah’s fartsaytishe nitsokhndike gezang,
unzere eygene neys:
mayn tatns gayst,
mayn tatns flam.
Hazel Frankel
The Pillowcase
Strong linen
Beautifully embroidered
Small pointed blue petals
Made for me by my mother
When I married
It was torn
Ripped from the washing line
By someone who did not careI carefully darned the tearBut the repair remained
As it does today –
Obviously there
It is called ‘downsizing’ ….
Going into a smaller space
Disposing of everything
That made up my life
Until now …
Furniture, paintings, books,
Clothing, crockery, cutlery
Bric a bracAnd linen …
This morning, I held that pillowcase
Made from sturdy white linen
And studied the finely embroidered petals
White now with age –
Each one perfectly stitched and in place.
Why now?
Why has it taken so long?
Why after all these years
Do I see how much love and care
Was embedded into every thread?
The embroidery is faded – but intact
The rend I tried to mend remains
But the linen is as resolute as ever
And of all things to which I will say farewell
And dispose of and leave behind
This pillowcase will not be amongst them
This tough, torn pillowcase
Will be kept
Despite the damage
And despite the years
As a reminder of the strength
Which stays steadfast in the fabric
And the strength that lies in love.
Charlotte Cohen
