דורך דער שײַן פֿון דערינערונגען
Through the Shine of Memories
Work 120 of 440
Page 135. 'Through the Shine of Memories' (Durkh der Shayn fun Derinerungen): A meditation on the failure of language. Through memory's shine, your eyes look upon me. Words that long to be spoken dissolve in the mouth's corners into frozen foam. The cliché 'the day has passed, the evening passes' doesn't help the speaker articulate what he feels. He calls someone to reveal themselves in the shine of past days — but that person (perhaps himself) throws hands on his own head in distress. Don't you know that the revealed one must stand calmly in the light of the past, face open-wide? We — I and you and all — are the echo of unspoken words, the frozen foam of words that die suffocated in the grip of lips. Language fails before the weight of memory and loss.
דורך דער שײַן פֿון דערינערונגען
דורך דער שײַן פֿון דערינערונגען
קוקן אויף מיר דײַנע אויגן.
און גוט איז, ווען ווערטער, וואָס בענקען
צו ווערן אַרויסגערעדט,
צעקלינגען זיך, לייזן זיך אויף אין די ווינקלען פֿון מויל
אין ווײַסן פֿאַרפֿרוירענעם שוים.
דער טאָג איז פֿאַרגאַנגען. דער אָוונט — פֿאַרגייט.
נישט העלפֿן מיר די נאַרישע ווערטער:
„דער טאָג איז פֿאַרגאַנגען, דער אָוונט פֿאַרגייט
Durkh der Shayn fun Derinerungen
Durkh der shayn fun derinerungen
kukn oyf mir dayne oygn.
Un gut iz, ven verter, vos benken
tsu vern aroysgeredt,
tseklingen zikh, leyzn zikh oyf in di vinklen fun moyl
in vaysn farfrоyrenem shoym.
Der tоg iz fargangen. Der оvnt — fargeyt.
Nisht helfn mir di narishe verter:
„Der tоg iz fargangen, der оvnt fargeyt
Through the Shine of Memories
Through the shine of memories
your eyes look upon me.
And it is good when words that long
to be spoken out
ring out, dissolve in the corners of the mouth
into white frozen foam.
The day has passed. The evening — passes.
The foolish words don't help me:
'The day has passed, the evening passes' —
don't help me speak out.
I call you forth to reveal yourself
in the shine of past days:
and you, fool that you are,
throw both hands on your own head,
throw and break:
don't you know, fool that you are,
that calmly must stand the revealed one
in the shine of the past:
that open-wide must be the face
that shines in the light of the past.
I and you, and all,
we are the echo of words
that cannot be spoken out.
I and you, and all,
we are the white frozen foam
of words that die suffocated
in the grip of the lips.
The day has passed, the evening — passes.
The foolish words don't help me:
'The day has passed, the evening passes' —
don't help me speak out.
Page 135. 'Through the Shine of Memories' (Durkh der Shayn fun Derinerungen): A meditation on the failure of language. Through memory's shine, your eyes look upon me. Words that long to be spoken dissolve in the mouth's corners into frozen foam. The cliché 'the day has passed, the evening passes' doesn't help the speaker articulate what he feels. He calls someone to reveal themselves in the shine of past days — but that person (perhaps himself) throws hands on his own head in distress. Don't you know that the revealed one must stand calmly in the light of the past, face open-wide? We — I and you and all — are the echo of unspoken words, the frozen foam of words that die suffocated in the grip of lips. Language fails before the weight of memory and loss.
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