The First Rain
Y
Yehuda Amichai
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The first rain reminds me
Of the rising summer dust.
The rain doesn't remember the rain of yesteryear.
A year is a trained beast with no memories.
Soon you will again wear your harnesses,
Beautiful and embroidered, to hold
Sheer stockings: you
Mare and harnesser in one body.
The white panic of soft flesh
In the panic of a sudden vision
Of ancient saints.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (he) değil, bir çeviridir.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş