Os cuelgo un poema, de una judía excepcional, que me parece super adecuado para los tiempos que corren.
Jerusalem
In my dream, children
are stoning other children
with blackened carob-pods.
In my dream my son is riding
on an old grey mare
to a half-dead war
on a dead-grey road
through the cactus and thistles
and dried brook-beds.
In my dream, children
are swaddled in smoke
and their unout hair smoulders
even here, even here
where trees have no ahade
and rocks have no shadows,
trees have no memories,
only the stones and
the hairs of the head.
I dream his hair is growing
and has never been shorn,
from narrow temples hanging
like curls of barbed wire
and his first beard is growing,
smouldering like fire,
his beard is smoke and fire,
and I dream him riding
patiently to the war.
What I dream of the oity
is how hard it is to leave
and how hopeless to walk
outside the crumbled walls
picking up the shells
from a half-dead war;
and I wake up in tears
from that dead-grey road
and the carob-free is bare.
Adrienne Rich (from The Voice of the Poet)
Esta poeta y pensadora, y su obra, es otro de las muchos indicadores de que dentro de la comunidad judía hay también voces disidentes, contrarias a la ocupación israelí. Ver si no las actividades de la "New Jewish Agenda". Por cierto, que creo que hoy hay una manifestación en Tel Aviv, contra la guerra.
Jerusalem
In my dream, children
are stoning other children
with blackened carob-pods.
In my dream my son is riding
on an old grey mare
to a half-dead war
on a dead-grey road
through the cactus and thistles
and dried brook-beds.
In my dream, children
are swaddled in smoke
and their unout hair smoulders
even here, even here
where trees have no ahade
and rocks have no shadows,
trees have no memories,
only the stones and
the hairs of the head.
I dream his hair is growing
and has never been shorn,
from narrow temples hanging
like curls of barbed wire
and his first beard is growing,
smouldering like fire,
his beard is smoke and fire,
and I dream him riding
patiently to the war.
What I dream of the oity
is how hard it is to leave
and how hopeless to walk
outside the crumbled walls
picking up the shells
from a half-dead war;
and I wake up in tears
from that dead-grey road
and the carob-free is bare.
Adrienne Rich (from The Voice of the Poet)
Esta poeta y pensadora, y su obra, es otro de las muchos indicadores de que dentro de la comunidad judía hay también voces disidentes, contrarias a la ocupación israelí. Ver si no las actividades de la "New Jewish Agenda". Por cierto, que creo que hoy hay una manifestación en Tel Aviv, contra la guerra.
Etiquetas: literatura, politica
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