World Poetry Translation Project

Please Join My Facebook Page by CLICKING HERE Diccussions, translations and positive people at our Facebook Page Temporary Poem Of My Time by Yehuda Amichai Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west, Latin writing, from west to east. Languages are like cats: You must not stroke their hair the wrong way. The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert, The trees bend in the wind, And stones fly from all four winds, Into all four winds. They throw stones, Throw this land, one at the other, But the land always falls back to the land. They throw the land, want to get rid of it. Its stones, its soil, but you can't get rid of it. They throw stones, throw stones at me In 1936, 1938, 1948, 1988, Semites throw at Semites and anti-Semites at anti-Semites, Evil men throw and just men throw, Sinners throw and tempters throw, Geologists throw and theologists throw, Archaelogists throw and archhooligans throw, Kidneys throw stones and gall bladders throw, Head stones and forehead stones and the heart of a stone, Stones shaped like a screaming mouth And stones fitting your eyes Like a pair of glasses, The past throws stones at the future, And all of them fall on the present. Weeping stones and laughing gravel stones, Even God in the Bible threw stones, Even the Urim and Tumim were thrown And got stuck in the beastplate of justice, And Herod threw stones and what came out was a Temple. Oh, the poem of stone sadness Oh, the poem thrown on the stones Oh, the poem of thrown stones. Is there in this land A stone that was never thrown And never built and never overturned And never uncovered and never discovered And never screamed from a wall and never discarded by the builders And never closed on top of a grave and never lay under lovers And never turned into a cornerstone? Please do not throw any more stones, You are moving the land, The holy, whole, open land, You are moving it to the sea And the sea doesn't want it The sea says, not in me. Please throw little stones, Throw snail fossils, throw gravel, Justice or injustice from the quarries of Migdal Tsedek, Throw soft stones, throw sweet clods, Throw limestone, throw clay, Throw sand of the seashore, Throw dust of the desert, throw rust, Throw soil, throw wind, Throw air, throw nothing Until your hands are weary And the war is weary And even peace will be weary and will be. Please Join My Facebook Page by CLICKING HERE

Translations for this Poem  English  Spanish  French  German  Italian  Portuguese  Korean  Russian  Chinese  Japanese

Poems by Yehuda Amichai A Pity We Were Such A Good Inventio Jerusalem I Know A Man Try To Remember Some Details Near The Wall Of A House My Child Wafts Peace I Dont Know If History Repeats Itse I Have Become Very Hairy A Jewish Cemetery In Germany My Father A Precise Woman Memorial Day For The War Dead Once A Great Love The First Rain God Full Of Mercy The Little Park Planted An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For H Yad Mordechai Temporary Poem Of My Time Love Of Jerusalem Tourists Quick And Bitter You Mustnt Show Weakness Before Of Three Or Four In The Room And We Shall Not Get Excited Wildpeace Do Not Accept I Want To Die In My Own Bed Ein Yahav On Rabbi Kooks Street Half The People In The World What Kind Of A Person God Has Pity On Kindergarten Childr A Man In His Life Forgetting Someone A Dog After Love If I Forget Thee Jerusalem

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Yehuda Amichai	Yosa Buson	Yusef Komunyakaa
Yves Bonnefoy

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