Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Shira Stav

SEA

At night soaking rain,
you can picture the house a shipwreck
soon uprooted and pulled away, listing and flooding
until it sinks
How lonely we are in this house!
Each one shrouded in a blanket
Each one alone with dreams devoid of people,
in ice wastelands or burning fields, just oneself
and the overgrown, eccentric animals.
You can measure the distances between the sleeping bodies,
between the breaths, you can hear
the heart of the ship gasping like a defective regulator
creaking and diving
as if we won’t get up tomorrow, as always, four,
stretching our wings in the space of the room, as if
we won’t fold them deep into the sleeves
of our wetsuits, as if we won’t fill
the air tanks, before we turn over each other
and go out, one by one, as if there is a sea waiting for us
and not these warped puddles of water.

ים

ים

בַּלַּיְלָה גֶּשֶׁם שׁוֹטֵף,
אֶפְשָׁר לְדַמּוֹת אֶת הַבַּיִת לִסְפִינָה טְרוּפָה
עוֹד מְעַט יֵעָקֵר מִמְּקוֹמוֹ וְיִסָּחֵף, מֻטֶּה וּמוּצָף
עַד שֶׁיִּשְׁקַע
כַּמָּה בּוֹדְדִים אָנוּ בַּבַּיִת הַזֶּה!
כָּל אֶחָד מְכֹרָךְ בִּשְׂמִיכָתוֹ
כָּל אֶחָד לְבַדּוֹ בַּחֲלוֹמוֹתָיו הָרֵיקִים מֵאָדָם,
עַל שִׁמְמוֹת הַקֶּרַח אוֹ בַּשָּׂדוֹת הַשְּׂרוּפִים, רַק הוּא
וְהַחַיּוֹת הַמְּגֻדָּלוֹת, הַמְּשֻׁנָּנוֹת,
אֶפְשָׁר לִמְדֹד אֶת הַמֶּרְחַקִּים בֵּין הַגּוּפִים הַיְּשֵׁנִים,
בֵּין הַנְּשִׁימוֹת, אֶפְשָׁר לִשְׁמֹעַ
אֵיךְ לֵב הַסְּפִינָה מִשְׁתַּנֵּק כְּמוֹ מַפּוּחַ פָּגוּם,
חוֹרֵק וְצוֹלֵל,
כְּאִלּוּ לֹא נָקוּם מָחָר אַרְבָּעָה, כְּתָמִיד,
לִפְרֹשׂ אֶת כְּנָפֵינוּ בַּחֲלַל הַחֶדֶר, כְּאִלּוּ
לֹא נְקַפֵּל אוֹתָן עָמֹק אֶל תּוֹךְ שַׁרְווּלֵי
חֲלִיפוֹת הַצְּלִילָה, כְּאִלּוּ לֹא נַעֲמִיס אֶת
בָּלוֹנֵי הַחַמְצָן, לִפְנֵי שֶׁנִּפְנֶה זֶה מֵעַל זֶה
וְנֵצֵא, אֶחָד אֶחָד, כְּאִלּוּ יָם מְחַכֶּה לָנוּ שָׁם
וְלֹא מֵי הַשְּׁלוּלִיּוֹת הָעֲקוּמוֹת.

Close

SEA

At night soaking rain,
you can picture the house a shipwreck
soon uprooted and pulled away, listing and flooding
until it sinks
How lonely we are in this house!
Each one shrouded in a blanket
Each one alone with dreams devoid of people,
in ice wastelands or burning fields, just oneself
and the overgrown, eccentric animals.
You can measure the distances between the sleeping bodies,
between the breaths, you can hear
the heart of the ship gasping like a defective regulator
creaking and diving
as if we won’t get up tomorrow, as always, four,
stretching our wings in the space of the room, as if
we won’t fold them deep into the sleeves
of our wetsuits, as if we won’t fill
the air tanks, before we turn over each other
and go out, one by one, as if there is a sea waiting for us
and not these warped puddles of water.

SEA

At night soaking rain,
you can picture the house a shipwreck
soon uprooted and pulled away, listing and flooding
until it sinks
How lonely we are in this house!
Each one shrouded in a blanket
Each one alone with dreams devoid of people,
in ice wastelands or burning fields, just oneself
and the overgrown, eccentric animals.
You can measure the distances between the sleeping bodies,
between the breaths, you can hear
the heart of the ship gasping like a defective regulator
creaking and diving
as if we won’t get up tomorrow, as always, four,
stretching our wings in the space of the room, as if
we won’t fold them deep into the sleeves
of our wetsuits, as if we won’t fill
the air tanks, before we turn over each other
and go out, one by one, as if there is a sea waiting for us
and not these warped puddles of water.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère