Israel in Translation

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads the poetry of Hadas Gilad, all translated by Lisa Katz. Hadas Gilad was born in Tel Aviv in 1975. She has published one book of poems, "Each and Every Light," and has translated the poetry of Lalla, a 14th century Hindu mystical poet from Kashmir.

"His lips - a soft gate Yes a hedgerow And I was drawn between them to roar within To be close to his voice To reside like this: In the darkness of the cave To hear the taps of swallowed saliva To hear the birth of each syllable To hear the shouts of joy."

Sociologist and Jungian Analyst Guy Perl notes the influence of Lalla on Gilad's poetry. He says that both poets "attempt to remove the illusion that reality is separate from nature [or] God..." However, he adds, "Gilad doesn't seek to rise above the illusion of reality, but rather to live completely connected to it, revealing its transcendent aspects..."

Text: Tamir Greengerb. "Ode" and "My Grandma Rachel, Age 15" in Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. SUNY Press, 2008.

Music: Rahul Sharma - Maqam-E-Navaa (Sufyana Musiqi)

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads the poetry of Hadas Gilad, all translated by Lisa Katz. Hadas Gilad was born in Tel Aviv in 1975. She has published one book of poems, "Each and Every Light," and has translated the poetry of Lalla, a 14th century Hindu mystical poet from Kashmir.

"His lips - a soft gate
Yes a hedgerow
And I was drawn between them to roar within
To be close to his voice
To reside like this:
In the darkness of the cave
To hear the taps of swallowed saliva
To hear the birth of each syllable
To hear the shouts of joy."

Sociologist and Jungian Analyst Guy Perl notes the influence of Lalla on Gilad's poetry. He says that both poets "attempt to remove the illusion that reality is separate from nature [or] God..." However, he adds, "Gilad doesn't seek to rise above the illusion of reality, but rather to live completely connected to it, revealing its transcendent aspects..."

Text:
Tamir Greengerb. “Ode” and “My Grandma Rachel, Age 15” in Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. SUNY Press, 2008.

Music:
Rahul Sharma - Maqam-E-Navaa (Sufyana Musiqi)

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads poems about death and dying by Tamir Greenberg, translated by Tzippi Keller and found in Keller's anthology, Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. Here is an exerpt from Greenberg's poem My Grandma Rachel, Age 15:

"'Soon, my shadow will strike a small pile of snow, and then I'll turn fifteen.' 'Sheets,' says the nurse impatiently. 'A pile of sheets.' 'Marius, my love, will come to meet me near the fence of the high-school for girls in Bucharest.' Grandma laughs. I was there already years ago. It was before my shadow refused to freeze on a small pile of snow, and when my love kissed me, his sweet kiss blossomed into my body like a rose petal, and later, in my father's wine cellars, in the dim wine cellar, Marius threw me to the floor, and when he tore my virginity my right hand truck the tap of a barrel and wine oozed onto the filthy floor.'

Tamir Greenberg was born in Tel Aviv in 1959, and heads the Architecture Department at Shenkar College. Also a playwright, his work has been staged at Habima - Israel's national theater. He has also published two collections of poems: Self Portrait with Quantum and a Dead Cat, and The Thirsty Soul.

Text: Tamir Greengerb. "Ode" and "My Grandma Rachel, Age 15" in Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. SUNY Press, 2008.

Music:Pure Imagination - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Dance Me to the End - Leonard Cohen Purple Rain - Prince

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads poems about death and dying by Tamir Greenberg, translated by Tzippi Keller and found in Keller's anthology, Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. Here is an exerpt from Greenberg's poem My Grandma Rachel, Age 15:

"'Soon, my shadow will strike a small
pile of snow, and then I’ll turn fifteen.'
'Sheets,' says the nurse impatiently. 'A pile of sheets.'
'Marius, my love, will come to meet me near the fence
of the high-school for girls in Bucharest.' Grandma laughs.
I was there already years ago.
It was before my shadow refused to freeze
on a small pile of snow, and when my love
kissed me, his sweet kiss blossomed
into my body like a rose petal,
and later, in my father’s wine cellars,
in the dim wine cellar, Marius threw me
to the floor, and when he tore my virginity
my right hand truck the tap of a barrel
and wine oozed onto the filthy floor.'

Tamir Greenberg was born in Tel Aviv in 1959, and heads the Architecture Department at Shenkar College. Also a playwright, his work has been staged at Habima - Israel's national theater. He has also published two collections of poems: Self Portrait with Quantum and a Dead Cat, and The Thirsty Soul.

Text:
Tamir Greengerb. “Ode” and “My Grandma Rachel, Age 15” in Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. SUNY Press, 2008.

Music:
Pure Imagination - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Dance Me to the End - Leonard Cohen
Purple Rain - Prince

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads from David Grossman's newest work, A Horse Walks Into a Bar, which came out in Jessica Cohen's English Translation last month with Jonathan Cape Books in London. The exerpt from the short novel is set in a comedy club in Netanya:

"But until midnight… we will raise the roof with jokes and impersonations, with a medley of my shows from the past twenty years, as unannounced in the advertisements, 'cause it's not like anyone was going to spend a shekel to promote this gig except with an ad the size of a postage stamp in the Netanya free weekly. F**kers didn't even stick a poster on a tree trunk. Saving your pennies, eh, Yoav? God bless you, you're a good man. Picasso the lost Rottweiler got more screen time than I did on the telegraph poles around here. I checked, I went past every single pole in the industrial zone. Respect, Picasso, you kicked ass, and I wouldn't be in any hurry to come home if I were you. Take it from me, the best way to be appreciated somewhere is to not be there, you get me? Wasn't that the idea behind God's whole Holocaust initiative? Isn't that rally what's behind the whole concept of death?" The audience is swept along with him. "Really, you tell me, Netanya—don't you think it's insane what goes through people's minds when they put up notices about their lost pets? 'Lost: golden hamster with a limp in one leg, suffers from cataracts, gluten sensitivity, and almond-milk allergy.' Hellooooo! What is your problem? I'll tell you right now where he is without even looking: your hamster's at the nursing home!"

Text: David Grossman, A Horse Walks Into a Bar. Translated by Jessica Cohen. Jonathan ape, London, November 2016.

Music:Yame B'zoret - Matti Caspi Savannah - Medjool Hine Hine - Matti Caspi

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads from David Grossman's newest work, A Horse Walks Into a Bar, which came out in Jessica Cohen's English Translation last month with Jonathan Cape Books in London. The exerpt from the short novel is set in a comedy club in Netanya:

"But until midnight… we will raise the roof with jokes and impersonations, with a
medley of my shows from the past twenty years, as unannounced in the
advertisements, ‘cause it’s not like anyone was going to spend a shekel to promote
this gig except with an ad the size of a postage stamp in the Netanya free weekly.
F**kers didn’t even stick a poster on a tree trunk. Saving your pennies, eh, Yoav?
God bless you, you’re a good man. Picasso the lost Rottweiler got more screen time than I did on the telegraph poles around here. I checked, I went past every single pole in the industrial zone. Respect, Picasso, you kicked ass, and I wouldn’t be in any hurry to come home if I were you. Take it from me, the best way to be appreciated somewhere is to not be there, you get me? Wasn’t that the idea behind God’s whole Holocaust initiative? Isn’t that rally what’s behind the whole concept of death?” The audience is swept along with him. “Really, you tell me, Netanya—don’t you think it’s insane what goes through people’s minds when they put up notices about their lost pets? 'Lost: golden hamster with a limp in one leg, suffers from cataracts, gluten sensitivity, and almond-milk allergy.' Hellooooo! What is your problem? I’ll tell you right now where he is without even looking: your hamster’s at the nursing home!”

Text:
David Grossman, A Horse Walks Into a Bar. Translated by Jessica Cohen. Jonathan ape, London, November 2016.

Music:
Yame B'zoret - Matti Caspi
Savannah - Medjool
Hine Hine - Matti Caspi

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads from Annna Herman's books "Unicorn" and "The Book of Simple Medicines." They are translated by Adriana X. Jacobs, who finds that "In Herman's work, the comfort of rhyme and meter provide a meaningful contrast to the uncomfortable and disquieting tales and images that Herman composes."

"At the end of the blocked path, at the edge of a thick forest, There's a house caught between two flickering flames. Like Red Riding Hood I walk through the dim forest, To my grandmother's house, and the snow falls again. I walk up to the edge of the dead end, to the edge of pain, And under each and every step fear lurks like a wolf. In the gap between the closed window and the shifting drape Churns the story that lives in this house and was sketched On a metal box I once bought - a colorful, peeling case - Telling the tale of the girl with the red cape."

About her own writing, Anna Herman has said "My difficulty is in the possibility of my goal, for example, to use words to express a moan: Mmh-mmh-mmh." Herman has also published a third book, "Hameuchad."

Texts: Poems by Anna Herman, translated by Adriana X Jacobs, from Poetry International Rotterdam

Music:The Sleeping Beauty - Tchaikovsky Little Red Riding Hood - Amanda Seyfried Mhm - Ram Orion

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads from Annna Herman's books "Unicorn" and "The Book of Simple Medicines." They are translated by Adriana X. Jacobs, who finds that "In Herman's work, the comfort of rhyme and meter provide a meaningful contrast to the uncomfortable and disquieting tales and images that Herman composes."

"At the end of the blocked path, at the edge of a thick forest,
There's a house caught between two flickering flames.
Like Red Riding Hood I walk through the dim forest,
To my grandmother's house, and the snow falls again.
I walk up to the edge of the dead end, to the edge of pain,
And under each and every step fear lurks like a wolf.
In the gap between the closed window and the shifting drape
Churns the story that lives in this house and was sketched
On a metal box I once bought - a colorful, peeling case -
Telling the tale of the girl with the red cape."

About her own writing, Anna Herman has said "My difficulty is in the possibility of my goal, for example, to use words to express a moan: Mmh-mmh-mmh." Herman has also published a third book, "Hameuchad."

Texts:
Poems by Anna Herman, translated by Adriana X Jacobs, from Poetry International Rotterdam

Music:
The Sleeping Beauty - Tchaikovsky
Little Red Riding Hood - Amanda Seyfried
Mhm - Ram Orion

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads from the opening of Yael Neeman's 2011 lyrical memoir about life on kibbutz Yehiam in the Galil. It's called "We Were The Future: A Memoir of the Kibbutz," and it came out in October of this year in Sondra Silverston's English translation:

"And they were really the best years of our lives, dipped in gold, precisely because we lived in below-zero temperatures in the blazing heat of an eternal sun. We greeted each new day with eagerness and curiosity. We were wide awake in the morning and wide awake at night. We skipped and ran from place to place, our hands stiky with pine tree resin and fig milk. We were so close to each other, all day and all night. Yet we knew nothing about ourselves."

Yael Neeman was born in Kibbutz Yehiam. She is the internationally bestselling author of two novels, "Orange Tuesday" and "Rumors about Love," as well as a collection of stories, The Option. Neeman was awarded the Prime Minister' Prize for Hebrew Writers in 2015.

Texts: Yael Neeman, "We Were the Future: A Memoir of the Kibbutz." Translated by Sondra Silverston. Poems and Songs translated by Jessica Cohen. The Overlook Press; 1 edition (October 25, 2016)

Music:Shuv Yotze Ha'Zemer - Hagevatron Yam Ha'Shibolim - Hagevatron Emek Sheli - Hagevatron

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads from the opening of Yael Neeman's 2011 lyrical memoir about life on kibbutz Yehiam in the Galil. It's called "We Were The Future: A Memoir of the Kibbutz," and it came out in October of this year in Sondra Silverston's English translation:

"And they were really the best years of our lives, dipped in gold, precisely because we lived in below-zero temperatures in the blazing heat of an eternal sun. We greeted each new day with eagerness and curiosity. We were wide awake in the morning and wide awake at night. We skipped and ran from place to place, our hands stiky with pine tree resin and fig milk. We were so close to each other, all day and all night. Yet we knew nothing about ourselves."

Yael Neeman was born in Kibbutz Yehiam. She is the internationally bestselling author of two novels, "Orange Tuesday" and "Rumors about Love," as well as a collection of stories, The Option. Neeman was awarded the Prime Minister' Prize for Hebrew Writers in 2015.

Texts:
Yael Neeman, "We Were the Future: A Memoir of the Kibbutz." Translated by Sondra Silverston. Poems and Songs translated by Jessica Cohen. The Overlook Press; 1 edition (October 25, 2016)

Music:
Shuv Yotze Ha'Zemer - Hagevatron
Yam Ha'Shibolim - Hagevatron
Emek Sheli - Hagevatron