Five Poems by Susan Afterman translated from Hebrew by Linda Zisquit
ALSO MY MOTHER AND ALSO ME
it turns out
were pregnant
and we miscarried on the same day
the day the army geared up
to move south
religious women soldiers passed by
they were beautiful
they did fetal check-ups
considered the conditions in Clil
whether favorable in their eyes for our fetuses
or not?
what did day bring? fetus and frog
and night will bring barren battle winds
and mouse
INTO THE FIELD OF VISION
that is all light
an image of wide-winged birds
large seagulls
soaring and hovering over the surface of the water
with slow and serene movements
they are part of the perpetual changing screen
before my eyes
here one dives into the sea
penetrates
raises from memory
the laundry room at my grandmother’s
an ironing machine for sheets
(linen tablecloths were ironed by hand)
and outside a cherry plum tree
I sit above on a thin branch
Mother sails to England alone
and father smiles embarrassed and goes out of our life
MOTHER DRESSES
chooses clothes and beads according to colors
she fits a wig to her head
with small movements removes dry leaves
and with her fingers rearranges the lilies
picks two gardenias from the bush outside the window
brings to her room and places in a small vase
I’d like not to wake in the morning
she says, not to be like the woman
we saw through her window
when we stood and removed withered leaves
her mouth open and her chin fallen on her chest
I STOOD AND CANDLES IN FRONT OF ME ON A SMALL TABLE
that my man built with his loving hands
and an Armenian tablecloth with large roses
on a background of green leaves and other small flowers
you spoke into my mind and encouraged me
you said each day each day what day will bring
I GAVE BIRTH TO A SON AND HE IS BEAUTIFUL
sometimes I put him down
forget him
by mistake I scratched his face a bit
he cries a whimpering moan
now he seems different to me
like a goat kid
his horns like a tortoise shell
and he’s already steady on his feet
Editorial Commentary
Birth, death, and family relations. These recurrent subjects often evoke clichéd language. Yet, in the following poems, Susan Afterman shows us how a gentle gaze can still be piercing, creating a fresh perspective to consider familiar topics anew. Her poems also challenge us with questions about the relationship between Hebrew literature and the English language. Reminiscent of (the esteemed Hebrew poet) Harold Schimmel, Afterman is a native English speaker who, later in life, chose to write poetry in Hebrew. Accordingly, the poems published here were translated into English by Linda Zisquit. These curious linguistic features remind us that these poems point beyond the intrigue of their vivid imagery. They hint at the sometimes understated dilemmas of immigrant writers.
~Lonnie