Friday night. Strada Romana

Dreamy Jews emerge from the baths, the siren of sabbath is shrieking, how shiny, oh Domne, thine shekels — for mother, for bride, for the auto! Lord (the moon a sharp sliver over each head), lead us home! (With shekels, away from this blue halva.) Quiet and swift like a rabbit the earth overtakes the meridians. Cans full of beer. Only Romanians here. The underground ready for war.

1998, Jerusalem
Translated by Ieva Lesinska