All Poems
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Half The People In The World
© Yehuda Amichai
Half the people in the world love the other half,
half the people hate the other half.
Must I because of this half and that half go wandering
and changing ceaselessly like rain in its cycle,
I Want To Die In My Own Bed
© Yehuda Amichai
The sun stood still in Gibeon. Forever so, it's willing
to illuminate those waging battle and killing.
I may not see My wife when her blood is shed,
But I want to die in My own bed.
Sonnet 117: "Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all,..."
© William Shakespeare
Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all,
Wherein I should your great deserts repay,
Try To Remember Some Details
© Yehuda Amichai
Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing
of the one you love
so that on the day of loss you'll be able to say: last seen
wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat.
Temporary Poem Of My Time
© Yehuda Amichai
Please do not throw any more stones,
You are moving the land,
The holy, whole, open land,
You are moving it to the sea
And the sea doesn't want it
The sea says, not in me.
Mermaid
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Hey when I was a lad in fishing town an old man said to me
You can spend your life your jolly life just sailing on the sea
Do Not Accept
© Yehuda Amichai
Do not accept these rains that come too late.
Better to linger. Make your pain
An image of the desert. Say it's said
And do not look to the west. Refuse
Of Three Or Four In The Room
© Yehuda Amichai
Out of three or four in the room
One is always standing at the window.
Forced to see the injustice amongst the thorns,
The fires on the hills.
A Man In His Life
© Yehuda Amichai
A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
Easter Zunday
© William Barnes
Last Easter Jim put on his blue
Frock cwoat, the vu'st time-vier new;
Wi' yollow buttons all o' brass,
That glitter'd in the zun lik' glass;
The First Rain
© Yehuda Amichai
The white panic of soft flesh
In the panic of a sudden vision
Of ancient saints.
Quick And Bitter
© Yehuda Amichai
The end was quick and bitter.
Slow and sweet was the time between us,
slow and sweet were the nights
when my hands did not touch one another in despair but in the love
of your body which came
between them.
What Kind Of A Person
© Yehuda Amichai
I'm not flat and sly
Like a spatula creeping up from below.
At most I am a heavy and clumsy pestle
Mashing good and bad together
For a little taste
And a little fragrance.
William Forster
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The years are many since his hand
Was laid upon my head,
Too weak and young to understand
The serious words he said.
A Precise Woman
© Yehuda Amichai
A precise woman: on the bedroom carpet
her shoes always point away from the bed.
(My own shoes point toward it.)
Sonnet XVI "If I Have Graced No Single Song of Mine"
© Henry Timrod
If I have graced no single song of mine
With thy sweet name, they all are full of thee;
