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Even after the mourning period was over, when the flat was finally empty and my father and I locked the door and were alone together, we hardly talked to one another. Except about the most essential…
Contributor:
Amos Oz
Places:
Arad, Israel
Date:
2002
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Immediately I grabbed the man, gripped him, pressed him to me with all my stomach muscles, the way a carpenter, after applying the metal vise to the cupboard that suddenly collapsed, twists and…
Contributor:
Hamutal Bar-Yosef
Places:
Beersheba, Israel
Date:
1990
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To the sacred memory of dear Shmulik and his comrades who fell in the battle to liberate Yeḥi‘am
He rose from the bed shading his eyes with his hands as if it was light although it was still dark…
Contributor:
Yehudit Hendel
Places:
Date:
1950
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After I published my son’s literary estate in a book, I still had a few scraps of writing and documents of various kinds that I didn’t know how to put together with everything that seemed clear and…
Contributor:
Moshe Shamir
Places:
Date:
1953
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Crags in the mountains facing us
are like bereaved mothers
who long ago altered their image:
dew does not slake them,
the sun does not gild them.
—How terrible their silence
and where can we flee?—
A…
Contributor:
Ayin Tur-Malka
Places:
Date:
1972
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The parting was not long in coming. My father died two months before I turned six.
To this day, I go to him at difficult times. Mostly to complain that he abandoned me. The handful of memories that he…
Contributor:
Shimon Sandbank
Places:
Jerusalem, Israel
Date:
2004
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The Mother enters, carrying the dead Child in her arms; approaches the pile.
The Mother:Hello, dead children.
I brought my son here.
He’s dead. He’ll lie with you.
Dead Children:You…
Contributor:
Hanoch Levin
Places:
Tel Aviv, Israel
Date:
1991