Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Israel Har

AN UNFINISHED HOUSE

You are the one I long for, floating on green waters
and from afar I see
a face rising from radiant depths
your face
your face flows in my eyes like the sound of water of salvation
water in the desert in July
joy and wilderness
my love was born in July, my mother died in October
and it is hard to remember a face from a yellow distance
but water covers
the water that covers the dust of childhood covers love
with love
water of salvation covers with kindness
dust upon the dead
and I from the void
saw a face
distant from the depths
in a lost kingdom

evening is gripped by the rays of a night covering itself

colorful buttercups flicker
in the fog over the river
on whose bank we were children
a forest at the sea’s edge
a scent of coal
an unfinished house
in the midst of the tired waters
you are the one I long for, floating on the receding waters
which conceal a face.
   

AN UNFINISHED HOUSE

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AN UNFINISHED HOUSE

You are the one I long for, floating on green waters
and from afar I see
a face rising from radiant depths
your face
your face flows in my eyes like the sound of water of salvation
water in the desert in July
joy and wilderness
my love was born in July, my mother died in October
and it is hard to remember a face from a yellow distance
but water covers
the water that covers the dust of childhood covers love
with love
water of salvation covers with kindness
dust upon the dead
and I from the void
saw a face
distant from the depths
in a lost kingdom

evening is gripped by the rays of a night covering itself

colorful buttercups flicker
in the fog over the river
on whose bank we were children
a forest at the sea’s edge
a scent of coal
an unfinished house
in the midst of the tired waters
you are the one I long for, floating on the receding waters
which conceal a face.
   

AN UNFINISHED HOUSE

You are the one I long for, floating on green waters
and from afar I see
a face rising from radiant depths
your face
your face flows in my eyes like the sound of water of salvation
water in the desert in July
joy and wilderness
my love was born in July, my mother died in October
and it is hard to remember a face from a yellow distance
but water covers
the water that covers the dust of childhood covers love
with love
water of salvation covers with kindness
dust upon the dead
and I from the void
saw a face
distant from the depths
in a lost kingdom

evening is gripped by the rays of a night covering itself

colorful buttercups flicker
in the fog over the river
on whose bank we were children
a forest at the sea’s edge
a scent of coal
an unfinished house
in the midst of the tired waters
you are the one I long for, floating on the receding waters
which conceal a face.
   
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère