The orange exploded in my hand

The orange exploded in my hand
Within that orange was my love
My love bore a monster
The orange exploded in my hand

In the pastoral village my orange is bleeding
The heart of the pastoral covers over the blood
The blood cries-out from below the geranium
The geranium is nourished by the bleeding heart

Evening explodes in my hand, my hand and fingers come undone
Darkness is stitched in zigzag by an unskilled hand, a hand full of warmth
The orange exploded in my hand, the orange spits blood
A crowded evening in an old tin can

The sea gathers-up into my breast, I caress its head
Sleep and calm, the sea, the sea ---


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Translated from the Hebrew by the author, © 1996 Ella Bat-Tsion