by Yermiyahu Ahron Taub
Father calls me every week,
driven by a force beyond himself.
He implores me to prayer,
to study—with him, with anyone—
to a lecture, to hear tell of ethics and Torah;
my silence is no deterrent.
It’s for your own good, he insists,
for the good of the people of Israel.
Father calls me to keep Shabes,
to put aside the texts in their thorniness,
all the prohibitions in their variety.
Those can come later.
Light the candles,
recite the Kiddush, relish tsholnt.
Rejoice in the rest of our Holy Day.
Even just that.
Father calls me to marriage,
suggests the granddaughter of his second wife,
laments my wifelessness and childlessness,
remains indifferent to my passion, my self,
despite having known for more than twenty years:
no matter those.
No man shall be without a woman.
No man shall abandon the imperative to be fruitful and multiply.
Mother passed over when I was young.
Her body was plucked, riven, her essence crushed by
the impasse in communication, the inadequacy of words,
the clash between piety and romance,
asceticism and beauty. Bereft of shelter from the enormity of his
disappointment in me, I reach for the skirts of her ghostly gown.
With all of these white hairs,
I ought to know better.
Only these words can save me.
Only your attention, however fleeting, can halt this spiral.
Is that you I see between the pines?
Only the melody of the nightingale, the grace of deer in the clearing,
only my step, however tentative on the leaves of this forest path,
can stem the grief, hovering, patient, that threatens to engulf me.
Please: stay not away.
Walk with me
and with our doe alongside.
***
Yermiyahu Ahron Taub is a poet, writer, and translator of Yiddish literature. He is the author of two books of fiction and six volumes of poetry, including A Mouse Among Tottering Skyscrapers: Selected Yiddish Poems (2017). His recent translations from the Yiddish include Dineh: An Autobiographical Novel (2022) by Ida Maze and Blessed Hands: Stories (2023) by Frume Halpern. Please visit his website.
