poetry by Gili Haimovich, translated from the Hebrew by Dara Barnat

Always a Desert

Wherever I go, it’s always a desert.
I’m always thirsty.
I don’t know if I have enough in my hump.
It’s satiation that I long for.
It’s the possibility to stop that I long for.
It’s the urge to go somewhere that I’d give up.
I walk on
not knowing if I can stop,
even if an oasis appeared.
Even though I’m certain I’d recognize one.
This walking, it drags me along.
Camels aren’t taught to stop, only to keep going.
I’m a camel, not for sure a female, but a general kind of camel.
I can’t see my hump,
though I know I have only one.
If I could turn back
would I discover that I actually left? Left something behind?
Wherever I go, it’s always a desert.

Continue reading this article…

Already a subscriber? Log in above to keep reading. Or subscribe now for immediate access to the complete digital and print editions, plus exclusive online access to Lilith's back issues.

Poetry

The articles in this special section:

My Grandfather Changes His Last Name

poetry by Penny Perry

Chet

poetry by Sheri Allen

Always a Desert

poetry by Gili Haimovich, translated from the Hebrew by Dara Barnat