*

He tells me
watch the stone.
Watch the stone again.
What changes in you
as you look.
The colors sing as they vanish.
What remains
of the one you embraced who's no longer with you
rustling in the dark.
The dawn will cover him and you.
The white stain, the stone,
will fade in your sleep.
Tour breath too
you won't hear.

I don't answer him.
I don't see him.
I obey.


*
When you meet the stone
Leave it alone, I said,

placed in the palm of your hand
sealed in its secret

its endurance greater than yours
lean on it.

Wait with it,
it is a piece
of earth

when the surrounding landscape is snuffed out
you're alone in the dark

and its weight is in your palm
and your weight

listen to the weight
for the weight
is its entire life

life comes
from you

see how it suckles
in your palm

borne, ascending, taking wing
assenting


*
The stone, placed
before me in the field,
plunges
in mighty waters

with the field
with me
with the starry heavens

goes up in flames
absorbed in the air

and still placed
before me and I
before it
am placed


*
You asked for
the bird in the stone

to wake
the bird in the stone

and the stone crouched
compact, bulky
motionless
brooding on its insects
on an old dampness

when you weren't there
it awoke
glided over the mountain,
the flock of rocks descending
to the cemetery,
above the cluster of cypresses,
the candles on the tombstones,
and the starlight touching its wings
asked about you.


*
The crushing stone
the murderous stone
shattering heads

is quiet
in the stone wall.

Oh the howling of the dogs
during those nights that aren't
distant

now I'll take you away
from that hour
that calm hour of night
when I sit on the stone
its chill against my back
my ears to the crickets
my eyes to the stars.

I don't belittle
the dirge
in the cracks of the wall
and I don't reject
the starlight that falls
like milk on my chest,
on the stone.

The stone and I
endure our hour
and memory within us
folds in its cell.
All that we learned
and carved in the stone
is hushed, rests,
light gusts of wind
pass over us
like indefinite sentence.


*
I got down on the floor.
I lay on my side.
I curled up turned into
a stone,
windowless,
sealed as sleep.

Within the stone
I gazed at the dark
looking for limits
of stone.

The edges of the stone,
the more I study them
the more I lose them, and find them

when I leave in pain
it limits.

Movement of particles
like light rain
on the face.
Far within my body, warmth
still, signifying
life.


*
He who suffocates in a stone,
learns its limits,
from the holes, the openings,
concealed passages,
a wind blows toward you
silvers of light breaking away
recall your eyes."

I forced myself
to raise my eyelashes.

The flowing stone,
a tear that melted,
a smile.

You came into the room,
touched the stone
and I rose to welcome you.

Published 1999-11-02

Original in Hebrew
Translation by Gabriel Levin
Contributed by Helicon
© Dan Armon
© Eurozine