Wednesday, July 7, 2010

The rain doesn't remember the rain of yesteryear



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.
/ The First Rain by Yehuda Amichai
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