How is life with that other woman?
Simpler, isn’t it? Pushing the oars
along one long coastline—
and my memory
soon becomes an island that vanishes
(not into the ocean—into the sky!)
Spirits—you will become sisters—
sisters, not lovers.
How is life with an ordinary woman?
One who has no god inside her?
A justified queen—
How do you breathe now?
Do you tremble when you rise?
What do you do, you poor thing?
“Enough
screaming and snapping! I’ll rent a place of my own!”
How is your life with the other one,
you, my life.
Is the morning delicious?
(If you get sick, don’t you dare blame me!)
What is it like to live with a postcard?
You, who once stood tall on Sinai.
How is life with a tourist
on Earth? Her game (do you love her?)
does it suit you well?
How is life going? Do you cough?
Do you numb your crafts with songs in your head?
What is it like to live with cheap goods: does the market consume you?
What is it like to kiss the dust of plaster?
Are you tired of her young body yet?
How does it feel with a woman of soil,
without a sixth sense?
Are you happy?
No? In a shallow pit—how is your life,
my love? Just like mine
with another man?
