I Am Going to Visit

I Am Going to Visit by Roy Caspi (translated by Nathanel Stawski)

I am going to visit, you know whom, whom are you going to visit, you-know-whom, you-know-whom you are going to visit. For a long time that you have been visiting you-know-whom; you visit you-know-whom every once in a while. He lives afar, you know where, he lives far beyond the mountain, after the lake, he resides, you know with whom, and if you-know-with whom, you know where; he lives afar, between the paths of the river, beyond the mountain, after the lake. There are more low houses near him, you know who lives there. With the light of dawn I will visit you-know-whom, I will enter the car to you know where, far away, between the paths, beyond the mountain, after the lake, I will not be late to arrive, tell him that I am already there. In the bedroom are the table and chair, everywhere I go I check if there is a desk, so I can sit and write. If there is no desk to be found at the place to which I come, I feel like a sleepwalker so much so that I must go outside to breathe air, or to fly away through the window, or through the pinhole of the door’s lock. The devil taught that one does not exit from the same opening one came through, that is the devil’s teaching. If there is no desk, go to the kitchen, and ask your hosts if they are willing to convert the dining table into a writing table; the writing is terrible for me lately, I do not write down a thing, although my apartment is full of tables; I have at my disposal a table in the bedroom, in the living room and on the balcony; the more tables, the more sorcery. One desk is enough for me, one table for him, one table for the guest. A table upon which I could write, the sharpened pencil is already awaiting me there upon the desk. There I will write the devil’s teaching, one notebook of spells; not an instruction notebook for strange deeds, I will write his sermons, that will be the writing of the kingdom; in the mornings I will get up from the writing table and look through the window to the paths of the river, to the lake and to the mountains in the horizon; I will make a cup of coffee and place on the table, I will sip from the cup of coffee and immediately fall asleep, for one lazy hour, in soft morning light, and immediately when I awake I will return to my labor; my host is busy of course with his affairs, he does not ask about my writing and does not push his pointy nose, he is at his room by his desk sitting and writing; and when with him it is evening with me it is dawn, and so the other way around, when I write down by dawn’s table the teachings of his abundant and tortuous doctrine he is likely already leaning by the evening table; we can see each other only at the designated hour, at a time of crossing and even then meet for one second; I see his shadow wind between the times, and he sees my figure on the desk, with the writing utensil in my hand. I am already there, you know by whom, for some days now. In my apartment I could not write the teaching, I had to cross the mountain and cross the valley, the lake and the paths of the river; you know who awaited and anticipated my coming. I parked my car in the driveway, the wind hummed in silent singing and the songbirds silenced to the sound of the silent winds’ singing, and I my leg took out of my car and strode down the path with only a bag in my hand, and passed through an opening’s surface, you know where, and then I passed through a second opening’s surface, until I stood in front of one door, that would open to the sound of my voice, and I entered through the one door, and I reached, you-know-whom, who was now in his hour, and I did not want to disturb him and cause him to quit his labor, so I walked straight inside and looked at the desk and the writing utensils and the armchair by the side, and a window with curtains that if you drew them, you could see the paths of the river and the wide blue lake and the high mountains there faraway in the horizon; and with the tip of my finger’s pad I drew the window’s curtain slightly and sat down to rest for a moment on the armchair. Suddenly a strange thing occurred, the clock rang and disturbed me because the hour is already late, I probably did not notice and it is noon already and soon the evening’s key will turn, and I will see, you-know-whom, his shadow walking about the apartment, and his arm is long and always travels like a sleepwalker on the walls with a pair of fingers and with scratching nails, but without any noise, like a cat walking about the walls after him, behind his head, next to his shoulder, and his pointy nose, with his shadow on the wall, his long nose and his eyes, a frightening scene. The moment he saw me waking up at once from the armchair and his fingers stayed thus silent upon the wall, like two hands of the clock that ceased suddenly from beating, like an animal stopping in front of an animal more dangerous than it, so I froze in place, and his fingers seemed to vanish back between the hours. I knew it was a good time to go a bit to the sink and wash my face’s cloth which was already ragged following the ride and unexpected slumber that fell upon me, much work lies yet ahead of me; I must sit at the desk soon and write. I turned to the bathroom and washed my face, took off my glasses from my eyes and set them near, on the white sink, my eyes washed with water, my forehead and cheeks too, I grabbed the towel, which you know who kept for me, and dried my face, and when I finished it all I retrieved my glasses and returned to the room. My eyes started to close again and I could not start my work. Sleep that comes in passing with no intent is not truly a full sleep, it lacks a certain liberty which exists in intended sleep. In my work process sleep is much valued; and sleep, wherein the hours are not factored, is not sleep. For a long time I am considered self-employed, since I received the inheritance I am not concerned about my income but rather about my writing place, he is not concerned about his income but rather about his writing place, I fixed a table especially for him to sit and write the devil’s teaching. Few are those who are allowed to come here and who went this far; I have been following you for a long time even before you came, I prepared the mountains and the valley, the lake and the paths of the river for him to come all the way up to here.