Iara:
Shachar told me that he was walking in the forest, and the
temperature was below zero degrees. I told him it was beyond my imagination, a
forest, zero degrees, it seemed to me that it was impossible to breathe ... The
trip to India is approaching and it brings fear, enthusiasm. It's hard to
concentrate. It's such a journey, alone, for so long, to leave everything I
know, it gets me out of my comfort zone.
Ze'ev:
My trip to India is approaching
I'm in the woods
Freezing
Suffocating
Shivering
Paralyzed
My mouth turns into ice
Not even one poem
Comes out as it should
Iara:
I started to pack words in a suitcase / to prevent losing
them in the excitement / In India I will arrange them / in shelves and drawers
/ After all clothes / you can buy at the store / but it is not easy to find the
right words
Ze'ev:
For the trip to India
I pack poems in a suitcase
Clothes can be bought in the store
Iara:
Noisy Cars / News in the newspaper / Rain / The sound of my
silence grows / Ready to travel / No return / I'll come back different
Ze'ev:
Outside there's a storm
On the porch - rain
inside me - silence
Ready to leave
I'll come back
One way or another
Iara:
I dreamed that I moved to another house / there was a mess /
I was not afraid / there will be time to make order
Ze'ev:
What does the other house look like?
Iara:
This dream tells me about a new feeling. Not to be afraid of
changes. Relax and believe that everything is going well. In the dream, I moved
from an apartment to a house, large and not new. There were a lot of things out
there that did not belong to me. It's like making order in my soul, throwing
away what is not mine, slowly finding a new place for all things, taking the
opportunity to let go what is unnecessary. Maybe it had to do with the trip.
Ze'ev:
In a dream, I moved
To an old house
I threw away what was not mine
I let go of
What was unnecessary
I slowly relocated
Books to the living room
Pots to the kitchen
I woke up before I woke up
Iara:
Can you write in Hebrew Le'hitorer with the letter Aleph? I
ask because the word "Or" means light when written with Aleph and
skin when written with Ayin. You might think that awakening (Le'hitorer) is to
feel the skin anew. In my name, there are awake (Er) and forest (Yaar).
Ze'ev:
Le'hitorer with Aleph is a crazy mistake because you can use
it only if you wake up because a ray of the sun hit your eyes in the morning😊
In Hebrew, "Iara" is not the female of the forest
but the house of the bees.
Iara:
I just got back, you would not believe it; when I went down
to the street, everything was quiet, there were no people- it's Christmas,
celebrating. What a disappointment. Suddenly, on a bicycle, a nice Indian. He
stopped me and said something I did not understand. After a few seconds, I saw
a branch with large green leaves in his hand. I could not believe it! Our
magician came. So, he explained to me, as far as you can explain in the
language of the hands, that if I puff on these enchanted Indian leaves, flowers
will appear. I Agreed. I asked to photograph. He agreed. He brought me a chair.
He himself sat down on the floor and opened a black sack with balls in several
colors. He started the magic with the balls disappearing and reappearing, all
kinds of exercises. I asked about the flowers, he told me to wait ... After I
found one white ball in a black sack, he asked me to puff on the branch with
the leaves, put it aside, and then he told me to rub my hands together. He told
me to choose a flower. I chose Yasmin, and there was the scent of jasmine. He
said: Another flower. I said rose, and there was the scent of the rose ... I
know there was perfume in the sack where I was looking for the ball, but it was
so nice. A few Indian guys approached us during the performance and they
enjoyed it and laughed. I filmed the magician, but he was very quick, I was not
very successful.
I was in the supermarket yesterday. It's not arranged in
rows, but in rows and circles, and you cannot tell where you've already passed
... funny! But I found tea with cardamom! It's not my expensive coffee, but the
smell of cardamom is still there ...
In India they sell magic –
Branches that when puffed on
Grow flowers
They trade wisdom
They give away smiles
In the supermarket
the products are arranged
in circles
I know how I got in
But how do I get out?
Iara:
After all this I reached the main street, and perhaps because
of the hour, traffic began. The women walked around with saris painted with
silver or gold.
Ze'ev
The people in India walk in the roads
Not on the pavements
They are like the cars, motorcycles,
Bicycles and rickshaws
"Horn please" is painted on
the trucks
And yes, they certainly hoot and hoot
Women in saris
Sit on the back of motorcycles
With both feet on the same side
I've had a Christmas in India ... I've been in a Catholic
country all my life, and I've had Christmas in a Buddhist country. Suits India!
Merry Christmas!
There are so many new tastes here, even the taste to match
colors: purple with green, or red with pink. Red with orange, orange with
purple. I don't have enough names for all these colors ... There are so many
tones for each color, that it's hard to describe. The jewelry, all over. You
see stars on the nose, on the ear, on the toes. Something glittering between
the eyes ... Four women sitting on a green bench, in a green park, next to each
other, dressed in saris, each with different colors: orange, pink with green,
red with yellow, light blue. They look like flowers in the green grass. Osho's
followers wear red wine clothes. If you want to swim in their pool, you need to
buy a swimsuit of the same color.
Ze'ev:
Purple with green
Red with pink
Orange with red
Orange with purple
Pink with yellow
I don't have enough names for all
these colors
On the lawn of the park in the
distance
The women look like flowers
Stars on the nose
On the toes
Between the eyes
Shimmering
Iara:
The poems do not want me. Fleeing. They leave me like rolling
tears. At least beautiful children, with big eyes like olives and a bright
smile, do not let me be alone. Their father is working in the garden, looking
at them with love and affection. It's a pity that loving eyes are not enough to
provide a hungry body.
Ze'ev:
In India, the poems don't want me
But beautiful children
With bright, big eyes and a beaming
smile
Play with me
And don't leave me alone
Iara:
A lovely girl was in the park. She had such a beautiful smile
that I wanted to photograph her. She enjoyed it, glad, we started playing.
After a while, she asked me if I could give her food ...
Iara:
The horn of a truck that is heard from a distance reminds me
of the ship / with which I once crossed
the world / to another world / to Israel / and again I crossed the world / to
another world / To India / To myself
Ze'ev:
Once I crossed the world
To reach Israel
This time
I crossed the world
To reach myself
Iara:
My head still hurts, maybe from the panic. I was really scared. I sat in the sun a
little, sunbathing on the porch where I live, and suddenly something heavy fell
on my head. I thought it was a stone, but it was not hard. I thought: Maybe
fruit, but it should have been the size of a watermelon ... until I saw the
eagle standing on a wall in front of me, watching me. It began to fly toward me
and then I got up, went out. When I got back to the apartment I started to look
for my glasses, I did not find them. Only then I realized that the eagle had
snatched them. I ran back there to look, they were on the floor and did not
break ... Tomorrow I'll go there again, I'll try to photograph my new boyfriend!
Ze'ev:
The glasses fell [ In Hebrew - Nashru] to the floor. In
Hebrew, an eagle [Nesher] is called that because it falls [Nosher] like a heavy
stone from the sky.
Iara:
My new Indian friends told me later, that you really had to
be careful, especially children with little toys. And it still hurts me now...
Only in India, eh? My husband told me that maybe the eagle needed the glasses
to see better!
Ze'ev:
An eagle attacked me
Snatched the glasses off my head
I had a panic attack
Iara:
Black cows standing / by a sidewalk / garbage and trash / A
woman in an ecstatic blue passing / a man in white looking for a meal on
the floor / red, orange, blue and pink clothes hanging on a rope / and one
Buddha decorated with a bunch of yellow flowers / on a wall / greeting
Ze'ev:
On a wall
A Buddha statue decorated with a
bunch of yellow
flowers
Greeting
Black cows, eating from the garbage
by the sidewalk
A woman, dressed in sapphire blue,
who passes bye
Under red and pink, orange and blue
cloths
hanging from a rope
And me
Iara:
And I have not told you yet about children eating directly
from the dirty sidewalk, next to sleeping dogs, and passing people.
The sky is orange / almost full moon / a few glittering stars
/ hundreds of black dots dancing above my head / small birds like flying
butterflies / among them dozens of bats exchange trees / earlier there were
eagles and pigeons / there is order in the winged world / They change in the
sky according to the hour of the day / When will it be my turn to fly?
Ze'ev:
"When will it be my turn to fly?" - doesn't seem to belong in the poem.
Iara:
How to describe a sunset without it being a
"story"?
Ze'ev:
A poem is the summary of something you saw or understood,
something you never had the slightest idea that it exists, and now you believe
that the reader has been unaware of it, also.
Iara:
The main thing for me was this amazing picture, of hundreds
of tiny birds that covered the sky and among them the bats, big, flying,
sailing like fish in the water. I've never seen anything like it, I could not
even imagine ... and I was infatuated. I never saw bats, I did not know what
they looked like, especially how they flew. And the moon and the stars and the
orange that leaves the black more beautiful, or the opposite ... orange sky I
have seen before, but not as the background for hundreds of tiny birds and
bats. In Sao Paulo, because of the air pollution, there are wonderful sunsets.
(I hear voices outside, maybe it's a muezzin praying or an Indian prayer). I
did not know what bats looked like when they flew. I did not think they could
be so big and fly as if they had no weight.
Ze'ev:
In India, I saw
Little birds like butterflies
And a big, green one;
Just like that
Inside the city
Between the cars
Within the noise
The moon was almost full
And between the orange sky and me
There were birds
And amongst them
Big bats
Swiftly darting from tree to tree
I've never before, seen how bats fly
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