Light of Memory

Simcha Shirman

The light remembers. The earth knows. Closed eyes listen. The palm of a hand, like a conch, contains the distant silent sound of the sea. Like the long flowing hair of an angel, lying in a swoon on a black wet rock; hair that waves lazily in every light breeze of the awakening wind. The waves slowly cling, touch the soft white body, whisper the secret of the lemon flower and the secret of the fig and the memory of light.

Deep inside me I hear the flowers bloom

and the silence of death

that enters them in pain.

When I walk in the forest, I do not walk alone. The spirits of the dead also walk in the forest. In the depths of the dark mirror-like pool there are golden carp, wide-open eyes like a child.  In a puddle left by the rain tadpoles hastily develop before sunrise.

([…  The man has been standing for a long time in the wall. / He can't get out of here/ Who knows the man in the wall? / The man is small, the wall is huge/ The man is weak, the wall is strong/ Who knows the man in the wall? / The man whispers in a soft voice/ I want to get out, get out […]

My mother sang this song to me in a soft voice and I am still a child. The open holes left in the field covered with yellow chrysanthemums and red poppies and the white mustard flowers and the purple Erodiums.

Cars rush past on the grey asphalt road…

A train comes and disappears behind the eucalyptus trees…

A bitch, out on a walk, crouches on its hind legs to relieve itself before leaping into an unrestrained joyful chase after the ravens, which screech out their existence with their raucous voices, while they rise up indifferently to the bare branches of the trees that have just been planted.

Among the trees in the forest a horse waits, and between the walls of the palace behind an iron gate a father sobs in a choked voice at the death of his son.

Two women dream in the forest. Also he dreams about two women dreaming in the forest. The light remembers.

In a dark room, exhausted, he sips black coffee in a white cup.

There is light that burns the time that lives it, and there is light that annihilates time that hasn't known it yet, and there is black light that freezes time and stops it.

Light of Memory.ppt (3.67 MB)



Germania, September 2009