Dec 302012
 

The saga continues. The fourth poem in the cycle. The last three are here, here and here.

Ephraim Luzzatto (1729 – 1792)
How Long Must I Wait

How long must I wait for the coming of night,
For my soul to be cheered by cold flakes of snow?
My strength’s as dry as a tree in the forest,
My bones have been beaten by heat waves and sun;
Yet just as a nomad I’ll wander the world,
Yearning in vain for the first fruits of summer.

אפרים לוצאטו
מתי יבוא

 
מָתַי יָבֹא, מָתַי יָבֹא הַלַּיְלָה,
וִישַׁעַשְׁעוּ נַפְשִׁי אֶגְלֵי הַשֶּׁלֶג?
הִנֵּה כֹחִי יָבֵשׁ כָּעֵץ בַּיַּעַר,
וַיַּךְ אֶת עַצְמוֹתַי שָׁרָב וָשֶׁמֶשׁ;
רַק נָע וָנָד הֵן אֶתְהַלֵּךְ בָּאָרֶץ,
לָרִיק יוֹם יוֹם שׁוֹאֵף בִּכּוּרֵי קַיִץ.
י

Transliteration/תעתיק:

Matái yavó, matái yavó ha-láilah,
Vishaʕasheʕú nafshí ‘egléi shéleg?
Híneih khoḥí yavéish ka-ʕéitz ba-yáʕar,
Va-yákh ‘et ʕatzmotái sharáv va-shémesh;
Rak naʕ va-nád hein ‘ethaléikh ba-‘áretz,
La-rík yom yom sho’éif bikuréi káyitz.

 Leave a Reply

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

(required)

(required)

Are you a Russian spam robot? Prove it: *