elish porat

New Writing From Israel

ELISHA PORAT three poems

The State Of Things
translated from Hebrew by Nitsa Ben-Ari

Good of you to call. It was nice to hear
Your voice. And how are you? Great, you have made
Progress. I saw what you published in the
Journal. Yes, quite a few years have passed:
And they have left their mark: there are a couple of grandchildren,
I will not say how many. They should simply
Not be counted. Me, what about me? The same walls
And forty-two square meters: the earth is
Moving, and everything is cracking up. And at night
I am terrified: sudden crashes, the plaster
Is peeling, and on the roof bats spit volleys
Of fruit mashed with vomit and grain: and if
I strain my ear to this silence that comes
From your phone, I can very well hear:
Herds of longing galloping away to the mountains.

Foreign Snow
translated from the Hebrew by Suzan Rosenfeld.

A soft foreign snow falls
on the slopes of Jebel=el=Kabir
chill and secret it falls
on duguots on armoured
vehicles on the screens of memory.
In the damp mist wander within me
calling forgotten comrades
whose lives once touched mine
distant now beyond roads
barriers and transported gear.
Once, among them, I saw a pure
whiteness like this suddenly trampled:
crushed ploughed and rising again
then dropping and without a sound blotting
rent arteries and a reddening stain.

In Netanya, above the cliff
Translated from the Hebrew by Eddie Levenston

In Netanya, above the cliff, on one
of those sweet Friday afternoons, I
sit on a stone that marks the border
between the garden, the promenade
and the street. A warm sun ploughs
furrows that shiver across my back,
echoing the foam above the waves below,
of a wintry sea that retains the chill.
The town around me already
slowly removes the bandages
from terrorist attacks that hurt, grinding down
without mercy. Suddenly I am pounced upon
by this vision I have had before: my whole being
beholds the grim advance, the realization
of day-to-day Zionism.
The first German tourists run up and down
the paths, and the entrance to the gallery throngs
with holidaymakers: the town is coming round;
on warm Friday afternoons; at the end
of spring, two thousand and four.
As before, I am cast aside. Your turn
has not yet come. Someone else
will pledge his heart on your behalf.
With the grim advance, the realization
of day-to-day Zionism, the salt of my
life, and the single breath of spirit
from the fibers closing slowly
around my aging heart.

Elisha Porat, the 1996 winner of Israel's Prime Minister's Prize for Literature, an Hebrew poet and writer, has published 19 volumes of fiction and poetry, in Hebrew, since 1973. His works have appeared in translation in Israel, the United States, Canada and England. The English translation of his short stories collection "The Messiah of LaGuardia", Mosaic Press, was released in 1997. The English translation of his second stories collection "PAYBACK", was published 2002 at Wind River Press.

His works, poetry and fiction, were translated from the Hebrew into the English, and were published, as print and as online, in a selected literary stages. Elisha Porat's works were published at Midstream, Tikkun, Ariel, War Literature and Arts, Rattle, Another Chicago Magazine, Boston Review, Snake Nation Review, The Paumanok Review, The Pedestal Magazine, Poetry Magazine and others.