For Freddie
Like a lute
Touched by a breath of air
And it sings on its own
Wrote Walter Benjamin.
Like a breath of air
Touched by a lute
And it sings on its own
I write.
Like people
Bereft of air
Strangled by strings
Who touch themselves.
Like those
Who are no more.
And they touch us.
And we sing.
Like Walter Benjamin.
Translated from Hebrew by Natalie Feinstein



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