eftychia: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (cyhmn)
posted by [personal profile] eftychia at 05:24am on 2018-10-02

"The Precision of Pain" by Yehuda Amichai, translated by Chana Bloch:

The precision of pain and the blurriness of joy. I'm thinking
how precise people are when they describe their pain in a doctor's office.
Even those who haven't learned to read and write are precise:
"This one's a throbbing pain, that one's a wrenching pain,
this one gnaws, that one burns, this is a sharp pain
and that --- a dull one. Right here. Precisely here,
yes, yes." Joy blurs everything. I've heard people say
after nights of love and feasting, "It was great,
I was in seventh heaven." Even the spaceman who floated
in outer space, tethered to a spaceship, could say only, "Great,
wonderful, I have no words."
The blurriness of joy and the precision of pain --
I want to describe, with a sharp pain's precision, happiness
and blurry joy. I learned to speak among the pains.

[A joyous Simchat Torah to my friends celebrating it!]

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