Bride Of The Thunder Poem by Abraham Sutzkever

Bride Of The Thunder



On the shores of the Tugula River
A girl went to fetch some wood.
All the trees were cold and wet as fish.
Suddenly, a thunder, a silver axe in his hand,
Saw the girl. He liked her.
The little silver axe laughed in the forest,
And the girl saw a heap of branches.

Says the girl:
— Good man, how will I thank you?

Says the thunder:
— Be my bride, this will be your thanks.
If God could see your eyes
And your beautiful belly,
He would weep with joy that He created you.

And he takes a lightning, makes a nosering
And puts it on the girl.

Says the girl:
— If I am to be your bride,
I must know, dear man, your name.

Says the thunder:
— My name is Thunder.
There is none like you among the cloudgirls.
If God could see your eyes
And your beautiful belly,
He would weep with joy that He created you.
And he takes a rainstring
And dresses her in pearls.

Says the girl:
— I am flesh and bone,
And like your heap of branches, in a fire
My eyes will go out.
See, in the Tugula River swims one like me,
Wearing the same nosering,
Dressed in pearls,
She is of the same flesh as you
And will love you …

On the shore of the Tugula River
You can still see a heap of branches.
Under them a grave. Passers-by, take in the sight:
Above it cries a thunder day and night.

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Abraham Sutzkever

Abraham Sutzkever

Smorgon, Russian Empire
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