Poetry in Motion
My FatherYehuda Amichai
The memory of my father is wrapped up in
white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work.
Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits
out of his hat, he drew love from his small body,
and the rivers of his hands
overflowed with good deeds.
Translated from Hebrew by Azila Talit Reisenberger.
From IsiBongo 2, No 1. Copyright © 1997 by Azila Talit Reisenberger. Reprinted with permission by the author.