Israel in Translation

"And so, quietly, eyes shut,babies drop into the world,like rain falling in the darkfrom a gigantic hand into shafts,into a spider’s tent, a cold apple."

That's the opening stanza of Nurit Zarchi's poem "Baby Blues," read by host Marcela Sulak in today's podcast about the Jerusalem-born poet. Zarchi, who now lives in Tel Aviv, is one of Israel’s best-known children’s authors and has published eight collections of poetry, two collections of short stories, and a collection of essays.

Text:Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. Selected and translated by Tsipi Keller. State University of New York Press, 2008.

Music:Li-Ron Choir - Yalda Mazleg Ve Yalda KafShlomo Gronich - Barehov ShelanuLi-Ron Choir - Shalosh Yeladot Mayim

"And so, quietly, eyes shut,
babies drop into the world,
like rain falling in the dark
from a gigantic hand into shafts,
into a spider’s tent, a cold apple."

That's the opening stanza of Nurit Zarchi's poem "Baby Blues," read by host Marcela Sulak in today's podcast about the Jerusalem-born poet. Zarchi, who now lives in Tel Aviv, is one of Israel’s best-known children’s authors and has published eight collections of poetry, two collections of short stories, and a collection of essays.

Text:
Poets on the Edge. An Anthology of Contemporary Hebrew Poetry. Selected and translated by Tsipi Keller. State University of New York Press, 2008.

Music:
Li-Ron Choir - Yalda Mazleg Ve Yalda Kaf
Shlomo Gronich - Barehov Shelanu
Li-Ron Choir - Shalosh Yeladot Mayim

In our second installment, host Marcela Sulak reads an essay from Etgar Keret's memoir, The Seven Good Years, called "Bombs Away." We hear how Keret and his wife Shira Gefen cope after receiving "inside" reports about an imminent Iranian nuclear attack on Israel.

"Gradually my wife also began to realize the advantages of our shabby existence. After she found a not-exactly-reliable news site warning that Iran might already have nuclear weapons, she decided it was time to stop washing dishes. “There’s nothing more frustrating than getting nuked while you’re putting the soap in the dishwasher,” she explained. “From now on, we only wash the dishes on an immediate-need basis.”"

Hear how this attitude escalates in much the same way as the panic surrounding the Iranian nukes.

Listen to Part I of our dip into Keret's memoir, in which Marcela reads the opening essay - Keret's son is born on the day of a terror attack.

Text:The Seven Good Years. Translated by Sondra Silverston, Miriam Shlesinger, Jessica Cohen, and Anthony Berris. New York: Riverhead Books, 2015.

Further reading:Suddenly, a Knock on the DoorThe Girl on the FridgeMissing KissingerThe Nimrod FlipoutThe Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories

Music:Eran Tzur - Bachutz (lyrics by Etgar Keret)Shlomi Shaban and Etgar Keret perform at Tel Aviv's Pecha Kucha festival

In our second installment, host Marcela Sulak reads an essay from Etgar Keret's memoir, The Seven Good Years, called "Bombs Away." We hear how Keret and his wife Shira Gefen cope after receiving "inside" reports about an imminent Iranian nuclear attack on Israel.

"Gradually my wife also began to realize the advantages of our shabby existence. After she found a not-exactly-reliable news site warning that Iran might already have nuclear weapons, she decided it was time to stop washing dishes. “There’s nothing more frustrating than getting nuked while you’re putting the soap in the dishwasher,” she explained. “From now on, we only wash the dishes on an immediate-need basis.”"

Hear how this attitude escalates in much the same way as the panic surrounding the Iranian nukes.

Listen to Part I of our dip into Keret's memoir, in which Marcela reads the opening essay - Keret's son is born on the day of a terror attack.

Text:
The Seven Good Years. Translated by Sondra Silverston, Miriam Shlesinger, Jessica Cohen, and Anthony Berris. New York: Riverhead Books, 2015.

Further reading:
Suddenly, a Knock on the Door
The Girl on the Fridge
Missing Kissinger
The Nimrod Flipout
The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories

Music:
Eran Tzur - Bachutz (lyrics by Etgar Keret)
Shlomi Shaban and Etgar Keret perform at Tel Aviv's Pecha Kucha festival

Host Marcela Sulak reads the opening essay from Etgar Keret's memoir The Seven Good Years, about the seven years between the birth of his son and the death of his father. Marcela also explains why, although Keret is Israeli, the book was never published in Hebrew nor released in Israel.

As Keret waits in the hospital for his wife to give birth, he's surrounded by the victims of a terrorist attack that has just occurred, and is pestered by a journalist looking for an "original" reaction to the mass murder.

"Six hours later, a midget with a cable hanging from his belly button comes popping out of my wife’s vagina and immediately starts to cry. I try to calm him down, to convince him that there’s nothing to worry about. That by the time he grows up, everything here in the Middle East will be settled: peace will come, there won’t be any more terrorist attacks, and even if once in a blue moon there is one, there will always be someone original, someone with a little vision, around to describe it perfectly."

The podcast features songs written by Keret, performed by the band Mouth and Foot. Tune in next week for "Part II," in which Marcela reads another extract from the memoir - this time about the Keret household's reaction to the threat of an Iranian nuke.

Text:The Seven Good Years. Translated by Sondra Silverston, Miriam Shlesinger, Jessica Cohen, and Anthony Berris. New York: Riverhead Books, 2015.

Further reading:Suddenly, a Knock on the DoorThe Girl on the FridgeMissing KissingerThe Nimrod FlipoutThe Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories

Music:Hape Vehatlapayim (Mouth and Foot) - AnonimiEviatar Banai - Hamon Anashim

Host Marcela Sulak reads the opening essay from Etgar Keret's memoir The Seven Good Years, about the seven years between the birth of his son and the death of his father. Marcela also explains why, although Keret is Israeli, the book was never published in Hebrew nor released in Israel.

As Keret waits in the hospital for his wife to give birth, he's surrounded by the victims of a terrorist attack that has just occurred, and is pestered by a journalist looking for an "original" reaction to the mass murder.

"Six hours later, a midget with a cable hanging from his belly button comes popping out of my wife’s vagina and immediately starts to cry. I try to calm him down, to convince him that there’s nothing to worry about. That by the time he grows up, everything here in the Middle East will be settled: peace will come, there won’t be any more terrorist attacks, and even if once in a blue moon there is one, there will always be someone original, someone with a little vision, around to describe it perfectly."

The podcast features songs written by Keret, performed by the band Mouth and Foot. Tune in next week for "Part II," in which Marcela reads another extract from the memoir - this time about the Keret household's reaction to the threat of an Iranian nuke.

Text:
The Seven Good Years. Translated by Sondra Silverston, Miriam Shlesinger, Jessica Cohen, and Anthony Berris. New York: Riverhead Books, 2015.

Further reading:
Suddenly, a Knock on the Door
The Girl on the Fridge
Missing Kissinger
The Nimrod Flipout
The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God & Other Stories

Music:
Hape Vehatlapayim (Mouth and Foot) - Anonimi
Eviatar Banai - Hamon Anashim

"His small, perpetually dirty hands with their closely-clipped nails fumble with the space around him, seeking their way to me, here he is, kneeling on the carpet at my feet, apparently defeated, the crown of his head craning toward my lap, but then he straightens up, grabs one of the stuffed animals and hurls it at me."

Host Marcela Sulak reads the opening of Zeruya Shalev's novel Thera, translated by H. Sacks & Mitch Ginsberg. Shalev was born in 1959 on Kibbutz Kinneret, and in the background you can hear songs by other famous natives of the kibbutz.

Text:

Thera, by Zeruya Shalev. Translated by H. Sack & Mitch Ginsberg, The Toby Press, 2010.

Music:

Liel Kolet - ImaBenny Amdursky - Ani Gitara (written by Naomi Shemer)

"His small, perpetually dirty hands with their closely-clipped nails fumble with the space around him, seeking their way to me, here he is, kneeling on the carpet at my feet, apparently defeated, the crown of his head craning toward my lap, but then he straightens up, grabs one of the stuffed animals and hurls it at me."

Host Marcela Sulak reads the opening of Zeruya Shalev's novel Thera, translated by H. Sacks & Mitch Ginsberg. Shalev was born in 1959 on Kibbutz Kinneret, and in the background you can hear songs by other famous natives of the kibbutz.

Text:

Thera, by Zeruya Shalev. Translated by H. Sack & Mitch Ginsberg, The Toby Press, 2010.

Music:

Liel Kolet - Ima
Benny Amdursky - Ani Gitara (written by Naomi Shemer)

I sit at the entrance of the labyrinth

in which my country has vanished.

I don’t know why my country is lost

or what I should do to reclaim it

and the sunlight, the good breeze,

the songbirds in groves of oleander

and acacia...

Moshe Dor was born in 1932 in Tel Aviv. He served in the Haganah and then became a correspondent for the Israel Army magazine. One of the founders of the literary journal Likrat, Dor has served as literary editor and member of the editorial board of Maariv newspaper since 1958. His work has been published abroad in some 30 languages.

Host Marcela Sulak reads poems from the collection Scorched by the Sun, translated by Barbara Goldberg and Moshe Dor, as we listen to his words sung by various artists.

Text:

Scorched by the Sun, by Moshe Dor. Translated by Barbara Goldberg and Moshe Dor. The Word Works, 2012.

Music:

Chabad Choirs - Erev Shel Shoshanim (lyrics by Moshe Dor)Traditional - Tapuach Chinani (lyrics by Moshe Dor)Hagesher - Night Of Roses (lyrics by Moshe Dor)

I sit at the entrance of the labyrinth

in which my country has vanished.

I don’t know why my country is lost

or what I should do to reclaim it

and the sunlight, the good breeze,

the songbirds in groves of oleander

and acacia...

Moshe Dor was born in 1932 in Tel Aviv. He served in the Haganah and then became a correspondent for the Israel Army magazine. One of the founders of the literary journal Likrat, Dor has served as literary editor and member of the editorial board of Maariv newspaper since 1958. His work has been published abroad in some 30 languages.

Host Marcela Sulak reads poems from the collection Scorched by the Sun, translated by Barbara Goldberg and Moshe Dor, as we listen to his words sung by various artists.

Text:

Scorched by the Sun, by Moshe Dor. Translated by Barbara Goldberg and Moshe Dor. The Word Works, 2012.

Music:

Chabad Choirs - Erev Shel Shoshanim (lyrics by Moshe Dor)
Traditional - Tapuach Chinani (lyrics by Moshe Dor)
Hagesher - Night Of Roses (lyrics by Moshe Dor)