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  • Writer's pictureאבי גולדברג

October 7, 2023's massacre

 

A Collection of Poetry in Light of the War in Israel

Swords of Iron, October 7, 2023

 

Because we are just a shell, only a leaf – within us is the great death and that is the fruit, around which everything revolves

“The Book of Poverty and Death”, Rainer Maria Rilke[l1] 





 

Disaster and crisis suddenly befell Israel, our beloved country. Evil people, emissaries of Satan, acted mercilessly, unrestrained in murder, massacre, slaughter and decapitation.

In this collection, Israeli poets voice a poetry that is blazing, burning, raging with grief and anguish over what took place to the people in the settlements of the Gaza envelope.

This is poetry of lament and mourning that even the angels would cry to hear, and that every person must burn with in pain and identification. 

 

Shula Barnea – A poet and writer, bibliotherapist, facilitator for parents, couples and seniors. She has published six books of poetry and three books of prose.


 

 

Inferno, 7/10/23                            Shula Barnea

Translated by Lauren Port

 

It burst forth suddenly, with full force

as terrifying as ever, destructive, shattering

burning without mercy, without rest

it burst through the door of our lives with steel claws

grabbed babes by the throat and slaughtered

left horror and terror in its wake;

come to check its deeds, Satan

applauds, satisfied –

mission accomplished, complete.


 

Poems                 Rachel Bachar

                             Translated by Lauren Port

 

Even the pastoral

can die

from fury,

the shock knocks down the terror.

Even the idyll, green

like a chameleon, can turn black,

flowers can die

from fear.

Even the tiles from red-roofed homes

can fall

in the rage of fire,

screaming out violence.

 

Rachel Bachar, is a poet and writer for young children, a painter and multidisciplinary artist. She has published three books of poetry, performs on stage and her poems have been published in numerous anthologies.









In Each and Every Rebirth                         Shuki Guttman

                                                                        Translated by Lauren Port

 

In each and every rebirth

a nation must see themselves

as though they immigrated from Poland.

As it is said –

remember that which has been done

and be strong of body.

In each and every rebirth,

a nation must praise the muscles of their legs

that take their strength from the holy ground

to hover in position without mistakes,

to stay in the air

and make an impossible transition.

As it is said –

keep the breath steady

carry light

live up to expectations

and land softly,

therefore, in each and every rebirth

you have to rise to a great height

as it is said –

don’t shudder at the turn

and don’t fall on the bend;

we came to the land to triumph.

 

Shuki Guttman is a poet, educator and mentor for personal development, cultural entrepreneur, and poetry editor and founder of Eshkolot Poetika – Hebrew Poetry for the People. He is a member of the board of the Association of Writers.


 

Siren                                  Tova Zlotogurski

                                           Translated by Lauren Port

 

No, not courage just a bottle of water, a litter-box in the corner, the cat’s water, my welfare put aside. It’s no longer interesting. Any work drowns, and how could I speak poetry,

and in the window pregnant letters, the spacing, the commas, the full-stop. Something over there darts, swells, erupts from afar. A bird risks its life to come, it may be furrowed clouds, maybe tidings,

urgently I wait. What if the shofar is blown in a city and the people do not tremble?

And still I can hear it. The horizon quivers. One forced word escapes

siren*

 

* “If a shofar[ram’s horn] is blown in a city, would the people not tremble? If evil comes upon a city would it not be done by God?” Amos 3:6 

 

Involved in theatre, Tova Zlotogurski has written prose, drama and poetry on and off since the age of 14.





 

The Last Moments of Zehava and Ze’ev Hacker                Balfour Hakak

                                                                                                     Translated by Lauren Port

 

Our memories from Be’eri,

from Zehava and Ze’ev Hacker,

take the form of beautiful objects.

We saw them coming out of the Sukkah in Jerusalem,

and all the objects there in Be’eri

upon the set table

are now charred remains.

 

There is a bowl of juicy oranges

and cut vegetables.

Here’s the lampshade from the reading light, illuminating for the murdered

the book they were reading just before their death.

The petals that remain in the vase drip

drops of dew, drops of pure blood,

the book now on the table is charred.

The murdered left behind their simple house

dragged by brutal men

to another house in Be’eri,

there, shot to death.

When the siren was heard in the streets of the south

their chance was lost,

they only saw the stuff of nightmares,

and watching them

the light of the sun in the window

flickering and trembling, still.

In their death they were very tied to other people,

that is to say: they were bound together, a firing squad.

The wall opposite them, a row of shooters,

no rams, no angel.

The air outside was filled with the screech of birds.

All the birds, witnesses, their noise led us

to the dead lying bound.

The smell of death was boiling, burning,

in the courtyard, the Jasmine flowers breathed it in.

In the face of the searing smell, the flowers

ashamed to give their scent.

In the trees around them, the cries of the birds,

in the air, the noise of the sirens.

The Hamas-murderers called:

Allahu akhbar,

all the dead who were shot heard nothing…

In their death they remembered the cries of joy

from the Sukkah in Jerusalem

where pomegranates hung, red, radiant.

Here in Be’eri, there were cries of hate

and grenades.

The great sounds turned in on themselves

Zehava and Ze’ev Hacker, slaughtered and burned,

were covered in their own blood.

Since then, their table has remained set.

Let their memory always be blessed.

 

Balfour Hakak is a poet. He served as chairman of the Hebrew Writers Association in Israel (2005-2011). Born close to the Declaration of Independence in 1948, he was the winner of the International Bible Contest in 1965, and his twin brother Herzl was the runner-up. He has published eleven books of poetry and written books on research, children, lexicon and more, in collaboration with his brother, Herzl. He has been the recipient of various literary prizes including the Jewish Culture Prize, and the Lifetime Achievement Award.


 

 

 

 

 

Four Poetic

Etudes on the War                        Amikam Yissor

                                                                        Translated by Lauren Port

 

Hostages are paraded in the video from Hamas

and I contemplate the captives who marched

humiliated and hunched, in Roman triumph, back then.

 

Is it really true that it doesn’t last forever?

From the north I hear the barbarians attacking

in a roar of endless joy, over Rome.

 

And there is no wall and there is no tower

and the silent sound of the destruction bleeding horrifies

more than the roars of a thousand missiles.

 

The pain of downfall, the stench of death,

deserted houses. The muted sounds of lament.

They even shoot dogs.

 

Amikam Yissar is a graduate of the University of Haifa’s Department of Hebrew Literature and Department for Teacher Training. He has published a collection of stories, two collections of poetry, four collections of non-fiction, nine student-aid booklets for literature, and short stories and children’s poetry in a children’s magazine. Yissar lectures at literary events and is a book reviewer on Facebook.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Relief   /    Hagit Bat Eliezer

                                                                                      Translated by Dafna Renbaum

The security of civilians is trampled.

Skies thunder.

Here, cowering in the corner

far from the window.

Frightened: a missile? Enemy aircraft?

The terror of those threatened.

Relax: October, autumn,

nature reigns.

 

The clouds are motherly:

softly enveloping,

concealing from enemy eyes.

Is a storm expected?

Surely, it’s rolling thunder,

beginning of the rainy season.

I run to the window: raindrops

The danger has passed!

 

Hagit Bat Eliezer – Poet, translator, poetry editor, cultural critic, plans and officiates literary events. Published four books of poetry.

 

 

 

 


 

 

Sukkot Holiday Slaughter   /       Michal Doron

                                                                                                                   Translated by Dafna Renbaum

Fire and blood sever the Sabbath and holiday holiness,

massacre at daylight in golden fields,

trees of green wore steel,

youth and innocence devastated in a moment.

Fate is sealed

who will live, who will die,

flung between loss and living

until the end of one’s soul and the sword,

land without quiet, without compassion, bleeding

with a wound in a human heart

sorrowful Torah Holiday, slaughter, late

twenty twenty-three.

 

Michal Doron: Poet, writer and graphologist, MA Behavioral Sciences. Researches author’s manuscripts and lectures on the relationship between graphology, literature and psychology. Published a book of prose, Beyond the Bare Hills.


 

 

 

Simchat Torah*     /   Eran Turjeman

                                                                                                                   Translated by Dafna Renbaum

Morning,

Sabbath day,

Simchat Torah holiday

 

siren,

for a moment, uncertainty

spreads through town

 

frightened children

in the skies: interceptions

 

terrorists enter

the cities

 

scenes of dead

of innocent civilians

 

until when         cries

an elderly man

while still reading Psalms

 

and a small boy

his eyes to the skies

begs the Creator for mercy.

 

 

Simchat Torah: Holiday of rejoicing with the Torah*

 

Eran Turjeman writer and poet, works in the Dimona Municipal Library, has published five books (three children’s books, a book of poetry and a book for teens).

 

 

 

 

Ruins  /  Shula Barnea

                                                                                      Translated by Dafna Renbaum

 

Cows moan, engorged with milk

dogs, cats and chickens roam, homeless  -

all have been murdered: the milkers and the farm hands,

bodies, skeletons, ash and soot – everywhere

above, eagles circle, ready to seize the prey

foxes howl among the ruins,

the essence of Hell has lodged itself here,

chaos and terror clutch at our throat.

 

Shula Barnea – A poet and writer, bibliotherapist, facilitator for parents, couples and seniors. She has published six books of poetry and three books of prose.

 

 [l1]This is not the correct reference and needs to be changed.

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