You sacrificed a lot of time to the approach.
You changed sheets, pillows, but mainly expectations.
You took the opportunity, cleaned windows,
aired the room.
And so it was a total loss:
cleanliness, light and fresh air
weigh down now on a ton of loneliness.
The dark blue of midnight is almost purple with insult.
Days come and go, and the nights – a fabric of sorrow.
When intimacy fails
and only friendship remains,
you are humiliated for nothing
by the pressed clothes you wore.
The effort you made to be a host
is revealed as wasted.
There is no flavour in the delicacies you troubled over. Or in the wine.
Drink more wine.
Translated by Lisa Katz and published in Ariel, The Israeli Review of Arts and Letters, 110, Jerusalem 1999