Visions of a Traveler (POEM)
I crawled outside toward the light of the mountains that touch my conscience,
And pushed away the pitchforks of ignorance that objected to my existence.
Groping in the darkness,
With my hands exposing the path.
Angels appeared and guided me,
“Sacrifice your dream, lest you bleed on the earth,” the angels whispered .
From the thick forest I came out and healed my wounds.
During the war,
Toward the peace/
Beyond the mountains that my dreams were touching,
Two maidens awoke me from a different vision
And whispered to me warmly from the dark cold :
“Get up and live! Rise from the dead, it is not yet your destiny.
Wait a bit, and live the day.
Without worry!
the holy guards will hover above you.”
And I am another Jew in the world,
Looking for the tranquility of his ancestors.
Even when she comes, like water,
Glistening under the winter sun,
Shining with beauty and charm.
She is clear like a Greek goddess.
Moving freely between the walls of my world.
But she does not settle down,
She does not rest,
Finding comfort in the arms of another,
Yearning for the day when the ground will thaw,
And I will go out to her.