Poetry in Motion
Chicago
To My Love, Combing Her Hair
Yehuda Amichai
To my love, combing her hair
without a mirror, facing me,
a psalm: you've shampooed your hair, an entire
forest of pine trees is filled with yearning on your head.
Calmness inside and calmness outside
have hammered your face between them to a tranquil copper.
The pillow on your bed is your spare brain,
tucked under your neck for remembering and dreaming.
The earth is trembling beneath us, love.
Let's lie fastened together, a double safety-lock.
Translated by Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell
"To My Love, Combing Her Hair" by Yehuda Amichai, translated by Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell from The Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai. Copyright © 1986 by Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell. Reprinted with permission of HarperCollins Publishers.