Rachel Korn | Poems

RACHEL KORN - TEXT SITE

RACHEL KORN / GRIEF POEMS / WRIST

Wrist

My wrist has become so narrow, so slim;
Your glance too heavy for it, I fear.
As with a ribbon, you could have encircled it
With only a single fleeting tear.

My fingers like ten forgotten entreaties
that from our burned out love-bush flow,
frame my face: ten bleeding signposts
that point to the ultimate depths of woe.

Only a deep thin line of my palm,
Like a pain-worn vein, whence joyance leaks,
Still moves toward the distant shores
Your lips, your smile, your glance it seeks.

Translated by Jess Perlman and Morris Kirschstein
from Rachel Korn’s BASERTKEIT (KISMET).

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