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Zikaron Vered

Memory of a Rose

by Shlomo Artzi

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shenayim 1995
Two 1995
keshelo haya kevar ma lehagid,
When there was nothing more to say,
mul yarecha male chalav,
Before a full moon of milk,
yashavnu shotkim kemo kir,
We sat silently like a wall,
lo yadati lislocha lach.
I didn't know how to forgive you.
misaviv histabechu devarim,
Around us things got tangled,
avich met beogust mar,
Your father died in a bitter August,
lo zocher kevar et hashekarim,
I no longer remember the lies,
zikaron ze davar katzar.
Memory is a short thing.
keshelo haya kevar ma laasot,
When there was nothing more to do,
keshematnu mishiamum,
When we were dying of boredom,
himtaknu sham eyze sod,
We sweetened some secret there,
sheney zerukim mul kol hayekum.
Two lost ones before the entire universe.
lifamim kol echad bikesh:
Sometimes each one asked:
"teni sigarya, titen li esh",
"Give me a cigarette, give me a light",
hitmastalnu mergashot,
We got high on feelings,
zikaron ze davar varod.
Memory is a rosy thing.
keshelo haya kevar et mi lehaashim,
When there was no one left to blame,
lo otach lo at af echad,
Not you, not anyone,
hityashavti katavti shir,
I sat down and wrote a song,
veratzachta li oto keshesheret.
And you killed it when you sang it.
hitnashaknu ani choshev,
We kissed I think,
bechadrey kol hamadregot,
In all the rooms on all the stairs,
hakayitz hahu kishef,
That summer cast a spell,
otcha veoti meod.
On you and on me greatly.
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