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Literature and Poetry/
Rosh Hashana

Idit Hachmovich

Four poems

Kibbutz Yagur

The heat has already passed
The heat has already passed
With a sigh of relief
Who placed a beginning on the board?


Soon we’ll be searching
Hesitantly browsing
Which miracle will enter with the wind,


And a touch of love
Of red and gold – 
Catch a breath, because now is the time to rest.


And maybe anew,
In the excited morrow
The honey sky will not quite consent, but


A familiar voice, which had gone afar
Is nearing and whispering
An ancient secret …… how the apple blushes


(and all who are with me
Did not miss one rhyme
A song which is private, standard, unsent)

This summer too

This summer too, will probably end,
Between Elul and Tishrei, more or less,
It will end with a group of squills, it appears,
Or with some leaves on the way.


Fluttering the trail of its hot waves like a madam
Refusing to depart from her youth
Knowing that another will stun, walking by,
everyone’s eyes with the whips of her youth.


And a soft, aquaretic autumn will shine and caress 
Will calmly wiggle it way on our paths
And this summer, the sleeping the tired
Will be forgotten – like it was gone.


And we, saturated and burnt by ponds,
Will yearn for it when the thunder comes
In the falling rain and the shade of umbrellas
We will ask for the summer once more.
Days of honey and doves

The days of honey and doves
Golden leaves
The ticking of the autumn on the clocks
Drops of squill.


Clouds return
To the horizon
To those who wait
And edges
Find the rim of beginning
Like a ship reaching its port.


And this new thing, the good
Is really close
To come true.

The clap of the wings of beginnings

The clap of the wings of beginnings, and the wind
Breaking one last Elul heat wave
Gates are open for the new, the forgiven
For a wing of consolation in the clear breath of wind.


The arms of the window are sent to the blue
The horizon enters the rooms of the hearts
Your soul wishes
To fly and find the sweetness of honey and some hopes.


The bud of tomorrow, like a fan before your eyes
Breaks out young, colorful and naïve.
The world laughs, and calls only you
To pick up its smiles from the tops of the days.

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