Yehuda Amichai

(1924 - 2000 / Würzburg / Germany)

Yehuda Amichai Poems

1. I Wasn't One of the Six Million: And What Is My Life Span? Open Closed Open 12/1/2015
2. Poem Without an End 12/1/2015
3. Jews In The Land Of Israel 1/7/2016
4. The Little Park Planted 4/14/2010
5. The School Where I Studied 4/14/2010
6. Pity, We Were A Good Invention 4/14/2010
7. Let The Memorial Hill Remember 4/14/2010
8. Once A Great Love 4/14/2010
9. Yad Mordechai 1/13/2003
10. I Don'T Know If History Repeats Itself 4/14/2010
11. Quick And Bitter 4/14/2010
12. You Mustn'T Show Weakness 1/13/2003
13. Tourists 1/13/2003
14. The First Rain 1/13/2003
15. What Kind Of A Person 1/13/2003
16. Try To Remember Some Details 1/13/2003
17. Temporary Poem Of My Time 1/13/2003
18. On Rabbi Kook's Street 1/13/2003
19. Ein Yahav 1/13/2003
20. My Child Wafts Peace 1/13/2003
21. Memorial Day For The War Dead 1/13/2003
22. And We Shall Not Get Excited 1/13/2003
23. Of Three Or Four In The Room 1/13/2003
24. I Have Become Very Hairy 1/13/2003
25. Do Not Accept 1/13/2003
26. Great Serenity: Questions And Answers 7/20/2003
27. I Want To Die In My Own Bed 1/13/2003
28. Love Of Jerusalem 1/13/2003
29. I Know A Man 1/13/2003
30. A Jewish Cemetery In Germany 1/13/2003
31. If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem 1/13/2003
32. Endless Poem 7/20/2003
33. My Father 1/13/2003
34. An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion 1/13/2003
35. God Has Pity On Kindergarten Children 1/13/2003
36. God Full Of Mercy 1/13/2003
37. A Pity. We Were Such A Good Invention 1/20/2003

Comments about Yehuda Amichai

  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (12/11/2015 1:51:00 PM)

    ''Near the Wall of a House''


    Near the wall of a house painted
    to look like stone,
    I saw visions of God.

    A sleepless night that gives others a headache
    gave me flowers
    opening beautifully inside my brain.

    And he who was lost like a dog
    will be found like a human being
    and brought back home again.

    Love is not the last room: there are others
    after it, the whole length of the corridor
    that has no end.


    (Yehuda Amichai - translated by Chana Bloch and Stephen Mitchell)

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  • Fabrizio Frosini Fabrizio Frosini (10/11/2015 3:52:00 PM)

    Another poem by Yehuda Amichai:


    A Man In His Life


    A man doesn't have time in his life
    to have time for everything.

    He doesn't have seasons enough to have
    a season for every purpose.
    Ecclesiastes
    Was wrong about that.


    A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
    to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
    with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
    to make love in war and war in love.

    And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
    to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
    what history
    takes years and years to do.


    A man doesn't have time.

    When he loses he seeks, when he finds
    he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
    he begins to forget.


    And his soul is seasoned, his soul
    is very professional.

    Only his body remains forever
    an amateur.
    It tries and it misses,
    gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
    drunk and blind in its pleasures
    and its pains.


    He will die as figs die in autumn,
    Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
    the leaves growing dry on the ground,
    the bare branches pointing to the place
    where there's time for everything.

  • Doren Robbins Doren Robbins (2/11/2005 3:09:00 AM)

    Amichai speaks in the direct idom of emotion that descended from Whitman's rhythmic prose-poem style. When I read such poems as 'Inside the Apple, ' 'The Real Hero, ' or 'A Pity. We Were Such A Good Invention, ' I understand again that great lyrical poetry is capable of translating the deepest emotions into langauge that brings us to the ground of what living a human life means. That is, his best poems are really hymns to this life full of paradoxical disappointments and exhilarating passion fused with elegies to the duration of those experiences themselves that bring our strongest affirmations.

Best Poem of Yehuda Amichai

A Pity. We Were Such A Good Invention

They amputated
Your thighs off my hips.
As far as I'm concerned
They are all surgeons. All of them.

They dismantled us
Each from the other.
As far as I'm concerned
They are all engineers. All of them.

A pity. We were such a good
And loving invention.
An aeroplane made from a man and wife.
Wings and everything.
We hovered a little above the earth.

We even flew a little.

Read the full of A Pity. We Were Such A Good Invention

I Have Become Very Hairy

I have become very hairy all over my body.
I'm afraid they'll start hunting me because of my fur.

My multicolored shirt has no meaning of love --
it looks like an air photo of a railway station.

At night my body is open and awake under the blanket,
like eyes under the blindfold of someone to be shot.

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