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[ericcoliu]

Poem of the Week

Poem text of A Man In His Life by Yehuda Amichai


A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.


A Man In His Life is a reflection on and an poetic antithesis to one of the best known passages of the Bible in Western culture:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

-- Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3:1-8


Literary Biographical Sketch of Yehuda Amichai (May 3, 1924 - September 22, 2000)

Yehuda Amichai was born in Wurzburg, Germany, in 1924 to a religious family and emigrated with his family to Palestine in 1936. Following the WW II, he attended Hebrew University to study Biblical texts and Hebrew literature, and then taught in secondary schools. Amichai has published eleven books of poetry in Hebrew, two novels, and a book of short stories, and his work has been translated into more than 30 languages. He received the Israel Prize for Poetry and became a foreign honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1986. He lived in Jerusalem until his death on September 22, 2000.

Amichai was one of the first to write in colloquial Hebrew, which is viewed as one of Amichai's richest accomplishments. Writing in the modern Hebrew spoken on the streets and in the shops and homes of Israel, he helped create a vernacular literature for the new nation. The main theme throughout his corpus is a love for people, for the Torah, and the land of Israel. Amichai's poems are easy on the surface and yet profound; they are characterized by gentle irony and yet full of passion. Many of them include quotes from or responses to the Torah.


Note:


Ecclesiastes is an Old Testament book consisting of reflections on the vanity of human life; it is traditionally attributed to Solomon but probably was written about 250 BC. The work is mainly expressed in aphorisms and maxims illuminated in terse paragraphs with reflections on the meaning of life and the best way of life. Structurally and narratively speaking, the central theme of Ecclesiastes focuses on the opening statement of the book: “Meaningless! Meaningless!"(1:2) The Hebrew term for emptiness is Havel, which means "mist" or "vapour". This assertion in the opening statement is literally the beginning and end of the book, found here in 1:2 and 12:8.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Poem of the Week

Poem text of A Man In His Life by Yehuda Amichai


A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.


A Man In His Life is a reflection on and an poetic antithesis to one of the best known passages of the Bible in Western culture:

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

-- Ecclesiastes, Chapter 3:1-8


Literary Biographical Sketch of Yehuda Amichai (May 3, 1924 - September 22, 2000)

Yehuda Amichai was born in Wurzburg, Germany, in 1924 to a religious family and emigrated with his family to Palestine in 1936. Following the WW II, he attended Hebrew University to study Biblical texts and Hebrew literature, and then taught in secondary schools. Amichai has published eleven books of poetry in Hebrew, two novels, and a book of short stories, and his work has been translated into more than 30 languages. He received the Israel Prize for Poetry and became a foreign honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters in 1986. He lived in Jerusalem until his death on September 22, 2000.

Amichai was one of the first to write in colloquial Hebrew, which is viewed as one of Amichai's richest accomplishments. Writing in the modern Hebrew spoken on the streets and in the shops and homes of Israel, he helped create a vernacular literature for the new nation. The main theme throughout his corpus is a love for people, for the Torah, and the land of Israel. Amichai's poems are easy on the surface and yet profound; they are characterized by gentle irony and yet full of passion. Many of them include quotes from or responses to the Torah.


Note:


Ecclesiastes is an Old Testament book consisting of reflections on the vanity of human life; it is traditionally attributed to Solomon but probably was written about 250 BC. The work is mainly expressed in aphorisms and maxims illuminated in terse paragraphs with reflections on the meaning of life and the best way of life. Structurally and narratively speaking, the central theme of Ecclesiastes focuses on the opening statement of the book: “Meaningless! Meaningless!"(1:2) The Hebrew term for emptiness is Havel, which means "mist" or "vapour". This assertion in the opening statement is literally the beginning and end of the book, found here in 1:2 and 12:8.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

What follows is my reflection on the biblical passage mentioned above, which is titled A Poem under the Sun posted at http://coviews.com/viewtopic.php?t=35201 .


The poem, the sparkling and now-familiar one placed at the beginning of Chapter Three of Ecclesiastes, begins with the introductory principle that there is an appointed time for everything. The Teacher, author of Ecclesiastes, is speaking about those things that take place "under heaven," and he is trying to give the reader a picture of life "under the sun" by way of contrasts. The poem unfolds as fourteen lines in which almost every event of life is covered. The Teacher begins by looking at the two extremes of life: life and death. There is a time when you are born and there is a time when you die. Every other event occurs between these two times and involves decision-making on one's own. However, generally speaking, there are two events one cannot decide by oneself: the circumstances in which one was born and the timing of one’s death, except in the case of suicide. To a large degree, almost everything else can be decided and by knowing what time it is we can discern appropriate actions within the promise and risk of that particular time.

Of these fourteen contrasting pairs of human activity and experience, each contains the term "time." Here, the meaning of time does not stamp moments with the character of temporality but alludes to situations and particular occasions, that is, the concrete structure of a given situation. The poem covers the totality of human existence. With fourteen pairs, the double of seven, the poem connotes totality in the biblical sense. The phrases are impersonal: they lack both a subject that executes the action and an object that receives it. The Teacher seems to indicate that in extreme cases, such as birth and death, there is no room for interference.

Rather than a linear treatment that focuses on individual lines or patterns between or among them, the poem, as Carson Brisson suggests, appears to lodge much wisdom in seeing time as a suspended wheel, held in its shape by spokes composed of the full range of human experience -- from joy to sorrow, from birth to death -- turning dependably, steadily, repeatedly, and completely, as the sun above observes without comment. And, since one's life is not a permanent guest within this wheel, it is also wise to value the gift of what time is given. Above all, living wisely in this wheel means knowing what time it is by knowing what to do when. The wise recognize and accept as gifts of equal value both the possibilities and the limits that come in the form of life's experiences offered in their various seasons.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

What follows is my reflection on the biblical passage mentioned above, which is titled A Poem under the Sun posted at http://coviews.com/viewtopic.php?t=35201 .


The poem, the sparkling and now-familiar one placed at the beginning of Chapter Three of Ecclesiastes, begins with the introductory principle that there is an appointed time for everything. The Teacher, author of Ecclesiastes, is speaking about those things that take place "under heaven," and he is trying to give the reader a picture of life "under the sun" by way of contrasts. The poem unfolds as fourteen lines in which almost every event of life is covered. The Teacher begins by looking at the two extremes of life: life and death. There is a time when you are born and there is a time when you die. Every other event occurs between these two times and involves decision-making on one's own. However, generally speaking, there are two events one cannot decide by oneself: the circumstances in which one was born and the timing of one’s death, except in the case of suicide. To a large degree, almost everything else can be decided and by knowing what time it is we can discern appropriate actions within the promise and risk of that particular time.

Of these fourteen contrasting pairs of human activity and experience, each contains the term "time." Here, the meaning of time does not stamp moments with the character of temporality but alludes to situations and particular occasions, that is, the concrete structure of a given situation. The poem covers the totality of human existence. With fourteen pairs, the double of seven, the poem connotes totality in the biblical sense. The phrases are impersonal: they lack both a subject that executes the action and an object that receives it. The Teacher seems to indicate that in extreme cases, such as birth and death, there is no room for interference.

Rather than a linear treatment that focuses on individual lines or patterns between or among them, the poem, as Carson Brisson suggests, appears to lodge much wisdom in seeing time as a suspended wheel, held in its shape by spokes composed of the full range of human experience -- from joy to sorrow, from birth to death -- turning dependably, steadily, repeatedly, and completely, as the sun above observes without comment. And, since one's life is not a permanent guest within this wheel, it is also wise to value the gift of what time is given. Above all, living wisely in this wheel means knowing what time it is by knowing what to do when. The wise recognize and accept as gifts of equal value both the possibilities and the limits that come in the form of life's experiences offered in their various seasons.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

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