Poem
Efrat Mishori
PELLETS OF GLASS
Pellets of glass worked with heatSunk deep at the base of a bowl.
Beaten in on themselves, poised and moist,
Shining at me, forbidden, aglow.
Won’t touch m.
Won’t touch m.
Won’t m ove my hand.
I’ll cherish the ban,
I’ll raise it between my lips,
I’ll slake it with what words
Cannot secrete.
© Translation: 2004, Anat Schultz
PELLETS OF GLASS
© 1996, Efrat Mishori
From: As Far As Efrat
Publisher: Ha-kibbutz ha-meuchad,
From: As Far As Efrat
Publisher: Ha-kibbutz ha-meuchad,
Poems
Poems of Efrat Mishori
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PELLETS OF GLASS
Pellets of glass worked with heatSunk deep at the base of a bowl.
Beaten in on themselves, poised and moist,
Shining at me, forbidden, aglow.
Won’t touch m.
Won’t touch m.
Won’t m ove my hand.
I’ll cherish the ban,
I’ll raise it between my lips,
I’ll slake it with what words
Cannot secrete.
© 2004, Anat Schultz
From: As Far As Efrat
From: As Far As Efrat
PELLETS OF GLASS
Pellets of glass worked with heatSunk deep at the base of a bowl.
Beaten in on themselves, poised and moist,
Shining at me, forbidden, aglow.
Won’t touch m.
Won’t touch m.
Won’t m ove my hand.
I’ll cherish the ban,
I’ll raise it between my lips,
I’ll slake it with what words
Cannot secrete.
© 2004, Anat Schultz
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