Translated from the Hebrew by Jane Medved
At this moment a person leaves the world, at this moment a person arrives, we loved to give ourselves over to Frisbee. To fall flat, with our entire body, so long as it didn’t slip, to pant, inflamed, turning our eyes to an elusive, spinning thing, airborne, coming and going from our hands. Once, it fell into the sea and you swam after it. I watched from the sand, with my own eyes, the waves coming back and forth to snatch it, and you, stubbornly pursuing, until you almost disappeared. I remember with my body how we sank in our bathing suits, clutching each other, wet with salt, when you arose from the water, holding it. Where should I stand, in order to grasp the signs thrown and thrown at me, demanding that I return them, with a leap, how far have you gone, how far will my flexibility reach, waves by nature are beautiful and indifferent. At this moment, a person leaves, at this moment, the explanation is as simple as a page: all things swept into the beyond, whirl there for us, asking to gift us their radiant light.
Shai Schneider-Eilat is an Israeli poet who lives in Kibbutz Eyal. She has a BFA degree in acting from The California Institute of the Arts. Her full-length poetry manuscript He Was Here, I’m Sure was published by Afik-Helicon Press in 2019. Recent poems and prose have appeared in Granta, Helicon, and Ha’aretz newspaper.
Jane Medved is a poetry editor and a creative nonfiction editor of The Ilanot Review.