Love was late in coming…

Love was late in coming, and coming
didn’t dare call out: I am here,
while she knocked on the doors of the heart,
and stood as a poor man stands,
hands silently streched out.
Her look was sad and imploring
submissive and filled with doubt.

Pale are the candles, therefore,
that I have lit for her,
pale as the last of flowers
in the autumn light;
hesitant my joy, therefor,
quiet and in pain
like the pain of hope disappointed,
of waiting, waiting in vain.

– Ra’hel, Love was late in coming…

This completes for the time being this sequence of poems of Ra’hel I am posting. They are taken from the book “Flowers of perhaps – selected poems of Ra’hel” translated by Robert Friend. Translation sadly is not kind to those poems (although Robert Friend effort is to be admired). Her personal and clean voice, with little patos and ideology, would survive the judgement of time, I think, unlike the poetry of much more famous Israeli poets (like Bialic). But time will tell…

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