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Genre/Form: | Translations Translations into English |
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Additional Physical Format: | Online version: Amichai, Yehuda. Even a fist was once an open palm with fingers. New York, NY : HarperPerennial, ©1991 (OCoLC)988315505 |
Named Person: | Yehuda Amichai; Yehuda Amichai |
Material Type: | Internet resource |
Document Type: | Book, Internet Resource |
All Authors / Contributors: |
Yehuda Amichai; Barbara Harshav; Benjamin Harshav |
ISBN: | 0060552972 9780060552978 0060968699 9780060968694 |
OCLC Number: | 22277223 |
Description: | ix, 96 pages ; 21 cm |
Contents: | What Kind of a Person -- Like the Streams in the Negev -- Summer Evening in the Jerusalem Mountains -- Anniversaries of War -- Anniversaries of Love -- Memories of Love -- My Mother -- From Jerusalem to the Sea and Back -- Four Resurrections in the Valley of the Ghosts -- I Am a Poor Prophet -- Summer Evening at the Window with Psalms -- Summer Rest and Words -- Autumn Is Near and Memory of My Parents -- Little Ruth -- Sheepskin Coat -- Man with Knapsack -- My Son -- Hymn to a Masseuse -- The Greatest Desire of All -- Deir Ayub, a Heap of Watermelons and the Rest of My Life -- Changes, Mistakes, Loves -- The First Rain on a Burned Car -- Ramatayim -- Deganya -- Hadera -- Beit Guvrin -- Open Internalized -- Surplus of Flowers in the World -- Throw Pillows -- Yom Kippur -- A Man's Soul -- Life -- At the Seashore -- Museum at Akhziv -- I Want to Confuse the Bible -- My Children -- The Jews -- The Land Knows -- Temporary Poem of My Time -- We Have Done Our Duty -- This Is the Life of Promises. |
Other Titles: | Poems. |
Responsibility: | by Yehuda Amichai ; selected and translated by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav. |
Abstract:
Concentration on first things and last things. A man's soul is like/ a train schedule/ and a precise and detailed schedule/ of trains that will never run again. A man taking his children to the sites of battles he fought in, or seeing the expression of a former friend in the beautiful eyes of his daughter, or traveling through the changing landscapes and climates of Israel: these are the kinds of everyday experiences that Amichai transmutes into elegy and prophecy.
Conversely, the complexities of his vision typically find precise expression in the homeliest of images, as when he associates his memory of a boyhood sweetheart who died in the camps with a lone, unclaimed suitcase on a conveyor belt at an airport that "returns and disappears again / and returns again, ever so slowly, in the empty hall ..." Amichai's sensibility is like a great organ, enlarging whatever note or motif he strikes.
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