My Way
by Simkha Shayevitch
I dipped my hands
in a blue well of night
and with a mellow smile on my lips
waited for the hour of absolution
for the sweet hour of death
but in my heart
an eternal light took flame
and I saw the woe of my mother’s life
– You’re still young my child and for you there waits a wife.
I gladly lay down to sleep
on a brown haystack mid field
and with a childlike smile on my lips
waited for silver ships
to come sailing in my dream
but gray fingers of the wind
tore at my black hair:
-get up and take up the
prayer
that in the hungry person rages
Instead I had the urge to bless
the quiet twinkle of the stars
and when I dipped my hands once more
in the cool blue well of night
again the eternal light
flamed in my restless heart
and I heard the sobbing girl:
– See friend how in the night
the star cries over the roof of the prison