Land, home, comb
car, sanity.
To lose a child who hasn’t been born, you said,
your back to the wall,
in plural: fetuses. Seven.
To lose an olive tree, a table, a head,
if you give me wine you may do
what you like with me,
her skin plump and smooth,
she laughs.
To lose taste, smell, language,
in madness to lose everything
to lose hope,
success, a job, a journey
opportunity, to lose short hair, a curl,
to lose color, a manuscript, an idea,
initiative. If they’d only tell me how and what,
if a friend would only say
let’s go
just once tell me.
Translation: Lisa Katz
From the book Normal, Pardes Publishers, 2013
