Yaara Ben-David Poems

A few poems from Blood Red Strawberries – a journey of fascinating, exploratory and exquisite poems of the highest caliber.
Yaara Ben David’s poetry speaks with an elegant tongue – it is bound with simplicity as it exposes the complexities of daily life.
It winds around the intimate places and extends to the collective.

Gravitation/Middle Time

 

Laying on the dark side,

offering the skin

and the beauty of the abyss.

Let me divide you into syllables

beyond the rules of grammar,

like a sharp-edged fact.

Read me aloud from within me,

so that we might die together for eons.

Reaffirmation

 

I buy myself rights

in this plot of time

in which one always pays

in blood-red strawberries,

to later draw the line for eyes

oblivious to their own longing.

The beauty is in the fruit that has ripened and slowly soured

and is already molded in the language 

like a contradiction within itself.

Second Poem from Cycle The Refugee

 

What the land doesn’t know, the seeded skies do.

What the land has not had time enough to swallow,

the drunken sea drinks and vomits onto the shore.

And the light is the no-man’s-land between

Hover and crush landing.

Who am I, the man blows the question to the air,

like a rare bird in flight.

Different Time

 

At this hour, when passing from life to life

and casting nets into the fathoms of the dimming evening

 

I make myself a different time

from the ripples of a stone hammering the water

 

and from the water closing on me in a ripple

as if I were Robinson's little island.

 

Time is created from the short leap of the birds of Genesis

from the tree of knowledge to the tree of life.

Passing By

One man passes by
another, showing his regular colors
Sometimes his body is rigid, sometimes his voice is weak
I am a one-man terrorist band
said the assailant
of the Pope.
At a time like this
(a poor heat conductor)
listening to news summaries
reduced to the minimum
in this land of untouchable objects.

Translated By Rochelle Mass 

From the book Night Dialing, Eked 1982 

 

Balance

 

They think I’m not

but I very much am

fireproof glass

clear as can be

me, nothing me and my shadow

the flickering question mark

me,  flesh me and my wilderness

me and my dimming shadow Other

my two arms like a rope ladder

unfolding on my left and my right

to embrace my back

because from myself I came and to myself return

Translated By Riva Rubin

From the book Trojan Horse from the Depths of Consciousness, Carmel 2011 

A few poems from Blood Red Strawberries – a journey of fascinating, exploratory and exquisite poems of the highest caliber.
Yaara Ben David’s poetry speaks with an elegant tongue – it is bound with simplicity as it exposes the complexities of daily life.
It winds around the intimate places and extends to the collective.

And more

The following are new poems by Yaara Ben-David, exclusively published here for the first time in English. 

Created by Netanel Semrik

CEO ContentoNow