Sunset in Herring Cove

By YEHUDIT BEN-ZVI HELLER 

 

The  puzzle  of  the  sun’s  longing  for
the  sea
The  marvel:  her  love  fills  the  sky  overflows  the  rim  till the
sea  is  one
with  the  sky
The  sun  like  Dido  in  flames
melts  into  the  water
in  a  hiss  that  breaks  waves  into  bubbles  into  shards  which return
with  the  waves
Mirrors  tremble  with  visions  shattered  pieces  of  water  and  she
cries  Sea  O
Sea
He  weeps  she  bleeds
his  tears  her  blood  the price  they  pay  so  water  is  not  ever  parted
from  water
Streaming  the  seven  heavens  merge  evening  after  evening
and  the  sea
again  overflows.
Co-translated by the poet and Agha Shahid Ali

Yehudit Ben-Zvi Heller is the author of Ha’isha Beme’il Sagol (The Woman in the Purple Coat), Kan Gam Bakayitz Hageshem Yored (Here, Even in the Summer It Rains), and Mehalekhet al Khut shel Mayim (Pacing on a Thread of Water).

Agha Shahid Ali (1949-2001) was born in New Delhi and grew up in Kashmir. He published more than ten volumes of poems and translations during his lifetime, including Rooms Are Never Finished, a finalist for the National Book Award in 2001.

Click here to purchase Issue 01

Sunset in Herring Cove

Related Posts

Mesquite plant

July 2021 Poetry Feature: Burlin Barr

BURLIN BARR
but the wolf tree was there and there was a place where // trophies hung: entire / bodies slung there in semi permanence // turning into everything / imaginable between a fresh body and shit and a variety // of trash; except Otis; he kept his right in front / of the house even

Recife, Brazil

Translation: Poems by Lara Solórzano Damasceno

LARA SOLÓRZANO DAMASCENO
Nosotras, who for millennia have steered warships, / sailing through seas made invisible. / Nosotras, who walked barefoot through valleys of stinging nettle, had our name ripped from the book of history / our biography from the scientific treatises

Ice fishing

June 2021 Poetry Feature

CORRIE WILLIAMSON
You lamented the absence of a human sound for longing, / like the loon has, like the wolf. I think of you reading / to your donkey the day he died, the passage where Odysseus / kisses the soil, how the beast moved away from you, / stood quietly in the clover, then returned...