THE LATE AFTERNOON IS HEAT
The late afternoon is heat
The poem is far away
The day has yet to begin
I am old
Time mocks me with another small smile at its passing.
I do not know where I am going
And what I will be
And how I will die.
But I will die
And in much less time
Than I have already lived.
Late afternoon
The heat
My tiredness
The silence
This poem
Tonight will be Shabbat
Another day will begin
Time mocks me with its passing
And blesses me with each moment I still live.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem