To Share A Hiding Place, Physical Or

Reading A Poem In Translation Is Like Kissing A Woman Through A Veil.

Once I Was Lost In A Forest. I Was So Afraid. My Blood Pounded In My Chest And I Knew My Heart's Strength Would Soon Be Exhausted. I Saved Myself Without Thinking. I Grasped The Two Syllables Closest To Me, And Replaced My Heartbeat With Your Name.

When My Parents Were Liberated, Four Years Before I Was Born, They Found That The Ordinary World Outside The Camp Had Been Eradicated. There Was No More Simple Meal, No Thing Was Less Than Extraordinary: A Fork, A Mattress, A Clean Shirt, A Book. Not To Mention Such Things That Can Make One Weep: An Orange, Meat And Vegetables, Hot Water. There Was No Ordinariness To Return To, No Refuge From The Blinding Potency Of Things, An Apple Screaming Its Sweet Juice.

Now We're Like Planets, Holding To Each Other From A Great Distance. [...] Now We're Hundreds Of Miles Apart, Our Short Arms Keep Us Lonely, No One Hears What's In My Head. [...] It's March, Even The Birds Don't Know What To Do With Themselves.

To Share A Hiding Place, Physical Or Psychological, Is As Intimate As Love.