Elisha Porat

Elisha Porat four poems

A Biblical Experience

Yesterday I saw the Prophet Jonah
emerge from behind the filthy garage
near the stadium, in the Jaffa mud:
I stood peeing on the wide scorched
leaves of a castor-oil plant; all around me lay
a once-pure dune defeated by the effluent
of burnt oil, and foul fumes masked
the gleam of the water. A tremor went through me
as I shook myself dry; a tremor that came
to me straight from the sea, like the flash of
a fin, opposite the entrance to the port, under
the unwatchful eye of a darkened lighthouse,
and the Prophet Jonah, melting into the sand.

Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner

Ibid

"Ibid", "ibid", and again "ibid".
In my youth I was sent to
the footnotes buried deep in obscure tomes.
But I found no destination
there, beneath the papers
among which I squandered my days.
Today I am no longer surprised:
I know that there is no destination
that will divert me from the dark pit
that awaits me in the end. My last "ibid"
has been placed: it awaits me
there, at the end of the race.

Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner

On the Beach

To my Grandson Alon

On the beach, on a Saturday afternoon,
my tanned grandson sinks himself
into a crumbling padded basin in the sand.
I observe him from the height of my maturity:
see my body circling back on me,
sticky and warm, the image of a boy peeing in the sand.
Time flows between us, bubbling golden
and stinging my lips with its saltiness.
From the sunken mold of the sandy mask
the boy that I once was returns, playing
idly in the luxurious shade of the umbrellas.
A passing cloud darkens the light,
my face takes on the rigidity of grey plaster:
the short bliss, a forgotten scene of childhood,
all is washed away, flowing through my fingers
with the rhythmic beat of the retreating waves.

Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner

Fall Daffodils at Tel-Hazika

In that autumn, in their season,
the fall daffodils bloomed at Tel-Hazika.
And on the rocks, among the tattered helmets
splotches of yellow suddenly
burst out, blinding, as if in warning:
you will not be able to forget us,
we will not let you rest.
You will always be amazed in autumn:
What is this egg-yolk yellow? From whence
the orange? And where is that stone,
the one sunk by a man, soured by his blood?

Translated from the Hebrew by Cindy Eisner

Elisha Porat, the 1996 winner of Israel's Prime Minister's Prize for Literature, an Hebrew poet and writer, has published 19 volumes of fiction and poetry, in Hebrew, since 1973. His works have appeared in translation in Israel, the United States, Canada and England. The English translation of his short stories collection "The Messiah of LaGuardia", Mosaic Press, was released in 1997. The English translation of his second stories collection "PAYBACK", was published 2002 at Wind River Press.

His works, poetry and fiction, were translated from the Hebrew into the English, and were published, as print and as online, in a selected literary stages. Elisha Porat's works were published at Midstream, Tikkun, Ariel, War Literature and Arts, Rattle, Another Chicago Magazine, Boston Review, Snake Nation Review, The Paumanok Review, The Pedestal Magazine, Poetry Magazine and others.

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