Log Cabin Chronicles
Memory of my youth For Sima and Ephy Eyal
ELISHA PORAT
Poetry is a sudden process of verbal compression. I remember well one such illumination: her father was a famous artist who used to load his brush with one bullet many -- to explode on the canvas with first touch. He drew the beautiful head of his daughter and shook his head with pity at my sweaty pages: I feel for the two of you, she doesn't know yet that a poet is a continuous process of the pain of existence.
Translated from the Hebrew by Tsipi Keler
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