חביבה פדיה

it is the awful weeping of angels dripping throughout the night

we didn't know it was so

as the mighty legacy of the sea are we

crashing and crashing

turning in tiny viscous beds

in this encrusted swampland

our most ancient songs have become like mosquitoes buzzing

our bodies freeze our faces burn

we remember the bitter delight 

preserved in all our limbs

but now the taste is strange

though not foundlings we wail

aglow within the darkness

we have no other material to work on

we scream in our sleep

for we hoped to sense once more this yearning for ourselves

the words slip from their own presence

without control they pour out

it is the awful weeping of angels

against our will we eavesdrop

on our secrets drawn from the grave

it has been decreed for us that we shall remember and not that we shall forget

if only it had been the sound of the sea crying and hissing

but it is no more than a distant generator

the scorching wind thrusts into our openings 

and the reeds don't peel or shed their leaves

the bulrush is astonished and questions the meaning

but how do we explain to it a dream not yet dreamt

and our voice flows forth into desolation

despite the moments of mingling blood

it is possible to feel orphaned

and our voice flows

it is hard it is vile

the longing is great

it is the awful weeping that drips

we didn't know it was so

to be human

Translated from the Hebrew by  Aubrey. L. Glaizer)