White Swan

Poem written by my father, Zeev Kachel Lay your head here. Withering around us Is the garden, with golden reveries all. In its feverish languishing, like in life’s remorse A final flame has been ignited by the fall. Leaves are ֿ dropping out… The wind devours them For distant turns in the mist of time. Thunder roars. Abandoned, orphaned in this realm Is the path we never finished to the sublime.…