Ropes, Separation, Tear

by Zeev Kachel, Uvi Poznansky (Editor)

Zeev Kachel, a writer, poet and artist, published three books: a prose book "Dams Erupting" in 1957, a poetry book "Can We Still Love" in 1961, and a prose book "Beyond The Window, What Day Is It Today" in collaboration with his daughter, Uvi Poznansky in 1977. Until his passing at the age of ninety four, he created a prolific body of work, alternating between painting and writing. However, he archived his latest poems. They were never published in his lifetime. During the mourning period for his death, a treasure was found in his apartment: a great number of poems never before shared with others. They had been written out of pain, in response to his separation from his wife at the age of seventy. One line after another, they create an array of emotions, starting with love, through a sense of betrayal, loneliness, despair, waiting for death and ending with acceptance. This process is reflected in the editing of this book.

82 pages, Paperback

First published February 15, 2012

Reviews

[Uvi Poznansky · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a collection of Hebrew poems by my father, the poet Zeev Kachel, edited and published posthumousely. So if you read Hebrew, treat yourself to a wonderful reading experience. If you have a friend who speaks the language, this would be a great gift. Just to give you a taste of his soulful poetry, here is one of the poems, translated.


I live here on paint and on toxoid
By Zeev Kachel
Translated from Hebrew by Uvi Poznansky

I live here on paint and on toxoid
My step faltering, against walls, against barriers
Around me I see nature destroyed
Replaced by some structures for settlers.
I live here with no joy, no regret
And scribble little rhymes just for me
I live... No longer preach at the gate,
Nor squash any ants carelessly.
In their hiding place they seem to await
And observe me, in all probability.

I live with no account and no friend
No longer try to right wrongs in the world,
I cannot tell my future, my end
Simply listen to the waves, to my heart.
At set, prescribed times I just swallow
Pills coded by various pigments
And let my mind labor to follow
The secret paths of this universe.

It is clear to me now: There is no amity
There has never been any beginning,
And all that is here, that is growing
Was here and it always will be.
In space there is no upper or lower
No right and no left all around,
The moment is here, with no past, no forever
There is no first, no last or well-found.
Only an unending, unstoppable flow
And shapes that are shifting at will
There is no heaven, only hell and owe
There is time, there is space, there is still.
There is no happiness, no sorrow, no feeling
Only waves dancing without and within
In a struggle with no hatred, no foaming
Without saints, without angels or sin.

So call this entirety: Yin.

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I have just translated one more of my father's poems; to read it click the link: http://uviart.blogspot.com/2012/06/lo...

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The original can be found on my website, right here: http://uviart.com/zanichai.html, or go to the amazon page and 'read inside': http://www.amazon.com/Ropes-Separatio...