Poems by Rivka Keren
“Cross
Creek”
By Rivka Keren
In the Backwoods
of Deep South
In the
hamlet of Cross Creek
Surrounded
by swamps
Misty
orchards and
Dusty
yard
There
is an abandoned typewriter
On the
veranda
Lost in
the forest is
A long
winding path
Drown
silently in Lake Orange
Like a homesick
dragon
This is
the farm of
Marjorie
Kinnan Rawlings
Pioneer
woman
Author
and traveler
Writing
magnificent fiction
Oh, read
The Yearling!
Growing
oranges
Riding horses
Sailing
into the unknown
Determined
and fearless.
This is
the lonely house of
Marjorie
Kinnan Rawlings
Frozen
in time
Coated
with legends of
Wild restless
days and nights
Like a
sugar glazed apple
Locked
eternally in the pantry
Behind
broken glass.
Seasons
change
People
come and go
All these
happened
Long
long ago.
“Pompeii”
By Rivka Keren
In the
ruins of Pompeii
Our
hearts are not broken
By the
sight of the statues
Mosaics
and frescoes
The
temples the inns and the baths
The
long deserted streets and roofless houses
In the
ruins of Pompeii
Our
hearts are broken
By the
sight of the people
Frozen
in their last breath
The
moulds of their surprised bodies
Scattered
around like odd warning signs
These
are the people
Who
lived in Pompeii
Until
the twenty fourth of August Seventy Nine AD
And
they did not believe that such a horror
Would
happen
The way
we still do not believe
After
two thousand years
Not
even after Hiroshima and Nagasaki
These
are the frozen inhabitants of Pompeii
Who
provide us with hope and grace
By
breathing and laughing and singing in our fantasy
Because
our hearts are broken
But our
minds refuse to remember
That
such a horror could happen again
“Our
Dream”
By Rivka Keren
Our
dream
Is an
opaque enigma
Graceful
people
In
dazzling gowns
Boulevards
of
Granite
and marble
Huge
shining temples
Labyrinth
of canals and bridges
Framed
by the turquoise sea
Palms
bow in the breeze
Noble
calligraphy
In
candle light
Marigold,
cinnamon, clove
Purple
carnations
Scarlet
roses
We are
so blinded
By the
perfection
By the
absolute beauty
In our
dream
And we
ask
Where
are we?
Where
is this mystical island?
Can we
belong?
Can we
stay?
And the
people
Are
looking at us
In
regret
In
great sorrow
You are
in Atlantis
They
whisper
You are
in Atlantis
They
say
- Rivka Keren
(b. 1946, Debrecen, Hungary) immigrated to Israel in 1957 and attained formal
training in art, literature, philosophy and clinical psychology. Writing and
painting since childhood, she has
published 15 books, including works for adults, adolescents and children,
novels, short stories, poems and translations and has exhibited her paintings
in several countries. She is the recipient of eight major literary awards, and
her books are translated from Hebrew to German, English, Spanish, Russian and
Hungarian. Her latest collection of 19 short stories in Hebrew was published in
2018. Three of the stories were published in English by Editions Bibliotekos.
For further details please go to, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rivka_Keren
Copyright©2020
by Rivka Keren. All Rights Reserved.