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Eugene Dubnov

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Be Silent, Grass

For Joseph Bein

Be silent, grass, do not assail my soul
upon the troubled waking
in the spring -
the cigarette, the pill, the breathless running
with icy dewdrops
pricking at my ankles,
and in the nervous void a search for thoughts;
and on a summer noon
when walking round
the water, where the willow by the wall
was stirred by wind,
while struggling to sense
the foliage,
and late at night, within
the shadow of the trees,
throughout the rising
of the gigantic moon,
before the house
where all were sleeping -
do not bait my soul
along the gardens of your justice,
leave me,
release, I paid my debt in full, and now
when I am waiting in the sun,
and bees are buzzing,
and an old forgotten ball
is lying in the bushes, and of mint
my fingers smell,
do not surround, do not
torment, do not
bring back disintegration.

 

Translated by Eugene Dubnovand C. Newman

Page(s) 70

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