To die like Rachelwhen the soul shudders like a bird,wants to break free.Behind the tent, in fear and dread,Jacob and Joseph speak of her,a-tremble.All the days of her lifeturn head over heels inside herlike a baby that wants to be born.
How grueling. HowJacob’s love ate away at herwith a greedy mouth.As the soul takes leave now,she has no use for any of that.
Suddenly the baby screeches,Jacob comes into the tent—all this Rachel does not even sense.Rapture washes over her face,her head.
Then did a great repose descend upon her.The breath of her nostrils would not stir a feather.They laid her down among mountain stonesand made her no lament.To die like Rachel,that’s what I want.
- Dahlia Ravikovitch
- Dahlia Ravikovitch
