On The Nile Poem by Abraham Sutzkever

On The Nile



Even on the Nile I have no mother—
I shall weave me a wicker basket,
Seal it with the red clay of my wounds,
Take along the reflection of a dream —
And abandoned to the sighing Nile,
Rock on the golden shards of golden idols,
Until a king's daughter…
Oh, consuming malaria!

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Abraham Sutzkever

Abraham Sutzkever

Smorgon, Russian Empire
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