Menu

Poetry

For Benny Efrat

No one expected the horses to remember the Flood.
Time’s nail had rusted in the horseshoe when God
Let the wet shout go into the world.
Since then warriors raced upon their backs,
Nations wandered
And the wind’s whip snapped a gallop in their legs.
I therefore ask my friends in the donkeys’ parliament
To hide pride’s tail between hind legs
And offer our brothers, the horses, to be honor guard
On the day we lead messiah.
Only a saddle scorched by sun and scratched by wanderings
Will perhaps convince that rainbow over Ararat
To splash once again the face of the clouds.

Translated by Robert Manaster and Hana Inbar


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Access one piece of artwork every month for free! To experience the full archive, log in or subscribe.

Pin It on Pinterest