(after Hannah Szenes)
One two three and we part
a few strides taken in the dark
and the smell of making love is still strong
and our feelings remain a question mark.
One two three and tomorrow you may see me
not as a lover, or even a friend,
but might be my enemy
and in a week or two I might not still be here
and life is sometimes great, sometimes fair,
sometimes the dice rolls
when it’s cast to another side,
and the end I feel is quite near
and what you mean to me, doesn’t count,
does not matter at all,
what matters most is in the balance
and when the dice falls, you are lost
while the game of life is still on
and for some going strong
while I am trying to play again
somewhere else
and one two three and we part
a few strides taken in the dark
and the smell of making love is still strong
somewhat like new rain on the earth
and I am still gambling and I may be right,
I might be wrong
and we embark on where destiny falls,
rather than on what matters most.
[Reference: The last poem of Hannah Szenes:
:
“One - two - three... eight feet long
Two strides across, the rest is dark...
Life is a fleeting question mark
One - two - three... maybe another week.
Or the next month may still find me here,
But death, I feel is very near.
I could have been 23 next July
I gambled on what mattered most, the dice were cast. I lost. “]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem