18On my mat I dreamt toil
so that my sleep was sore and physical,
little less than the days.
19I heard the buzz of heat and the silence loud
and the sun struck me dizzy
so that, I am ashamed O Lord!
20I sometimes stole a suck from a she-goat’s teat
when her shepherd looked away.
21The iniquity of a child, dear Lord,
if I am guilty, I stand accused
~wrote Anatiya.
22I did find my mother
the day she died.
23I found my fount of living waters
seeping redly into Sheol.
24I chipped the dough-flakes from her hands
and tucked poppies under her low breasts,
two broken cisterns
that cannot even hold water.
25I wept.
I dragged her on her mat with my two hands,
walking backwards, my bird-back hunched,
my cries raised up.
26I scuffled her to the grave I dug,
like a little ant dragging a fragment of honeycomb
six times its weight, clenched in pinching jaw,
jerking it under the ground.
27My head was bare.
I sat between heaven and death,
an avalanche of hurt ran down my chest,
tears, and the tremble of heartbreak.
28Good-bye my queen,
my earthly sovereign.
Heaven help me little me,
I was utterly dazed
~wrote Anatiya.
29I must have done a twofold wrong
to have driven away my father
and lost my mother’s spirit.
30Forgive me, O Heaven,
my presence is no salve,
my touch no healing balm.
31But know, Lord, as much
as this damaged vessel can bear,
with its fissures and leaks,
that awe for You is in me!
Awe for You is in me!
~wrote Anatiya.
32God speaks to you, Jeremiah,
with hot-iron words God strikes you.
33God brands you with the Most High disappointment.
God tears a fissure in the firmament
and lets loose the skies’ ocean upon your soul.
34Ocean-tossed boy,
I am your Constant.
35Here, ducked down and timorous,
here-ever, here-after
a moon-pebble caught in your small orbit
twining forever here,
after there are no words left
falling in tumult from the Throne
and God turns away to tend
an underground spring in the desert,
here am I still constant
while age picks at me with tiny fingers.
I fear not. 36Love is strong as death.
37My desire rolls over me and flattens my bones.
38A frosty hand grabs hold of my heart
and you appear to me as a warm shaft of light.
I am sick! I am sick for you, prophet!
39I run to a high hill while tears slant from my eyes,
I might leap, I just might!
40I scramble upward to the hilltop.
This lust is too base, too alien,
it wants to bury me young!
41I must climb straight above it.
At the top my throat is closing.
42My fingertips are swollen and pulsing.
43O Lord, how you have fashioned restlessness in this young girl!
44It is no use.
I wrap my legs around a verdant tree
like well-watered vines.
Its branches enfold my back lightly.
A young leafy shoot reaches out.
45My arms woven amidst its branches,
my hands grasping tight,
I lifted myself up,
(O forgive me Blessed Watcher!)
46my mouth did open
and I pressed my dry tongue to the bark
and I loved and I said
to the tree, 47“you are my lover.”
And I cried for salvation
and the tree, it shook with the weight of me.
48I curled up, dear Lord, and I cried until dawn.
My love has driven me mad.
I
