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A Woman’s Song/ translated by Avshalom Guissin
Blessed he who made woman of me
And that I am of earth and of man
and a tender soft rib
blessed she who made me
as circling circles - as the zodiac wheels
and as round as a fruit-
that you gave me live flesh
in bloom,
and she made me as crops in the field
fruit bearing
that the shreds of your clouds slide as silk
on my face and my moons, and I am big
and seek to be a child,
weep with sorrow,
and laugh and sing, in the slightest voice-
in your exalted cherub
choir – the tiniest – I play
at your feet -
my maker!
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