By Yehuda Amichai
Translated by Chana Bloch
A child is something else again. Wakes up
in the afternoon and in an instant he's full of words,
in an instant he's humming, in an instant warm,
instant light, instant darkness.
A child is Job. They've already placed their bets on him
but he doesn't know it. He scratches his body
for pleasure. Nothing hurts yet.
They're training him to be a polite Job,
to say "Thank you" when the Lord has given,
to say "You're welcome" when the Lord has taken away.
A child is vengeance.
A child is a missile into the coming generations.
I launched him: I'm still trembling.
A child is something else again: on a rainy spring day
glimpsing the Garden of Eden through the fence,
kissing him in his sleep,
hearing footsteps in the wet pine needles.
A child delivers you from death.
Child, Garden, Rain, Fate.
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Happy Chanukah and Merry Christmas! I had a fairly quiet family day -- everyone slept late, then we ate lunch and watched several episodes of The Man in the High Castle while the Christmas bread baked. I think I finally have my new (inherited) computer synchronized.
Then we went to my parents' house, watched some football, had latkes with dinner, and lit the menorah. My foot is still hurting, so I didn't walk and I am very, very full! Here are some photos of the cats enjoying having so many people around and all of us celebrating the holiday:
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