Fragments " Yukel's book by Edmond Jabes "Poem by John Chow Here are excerpts from The Book of Yukel, the writer Edmond Jabes, Egypt 1912-1991. Author in which the gap takes shape from writing. The silence is devoted to the word that clings to nothing, to indicho. In Jabès, language is a murmur, just whisper to you in quest to reveal a secret, silent .
OF "THE BOOK OF Yukel" (excerpts)
1. The side of good
You're rich. The word is given to you. REB
ELAIM
(- What Do You Think?
-On earth.
"But here on earth.
-I think I'll land.
" We are facing each other and our feet on earth.
"I know more than stones of the path that leads
say, to the ground. If the tree
lacked intelligence, would collapse. If the sea
lacked intelligence, devour.
Water
due to water and keeps the fish.
Air
due to air and keeps the bird.
If he lacked intelligence, the darkness would reign everywhere. You'd give
screaming down the roads.
You curse your neighbor. You
applaud the fire. You
cut in thin slices of your wife's breasts.
You head off to the children. There would be no flowers
. You would wear a crown
thorns.
You'd be lonely, lonely, lonely,
therefore to be two,
NEED TO KNOW.)
let you die, Yukel. I was with you when you drank the poison. Could stop you, but your eyes I would not tolerate intervention to modify your decision. I attended your agony, in the shadow
. You looked at the wall. Not once kissed the picture of Sara.
I went downstairs in your house, leaning on the railing. I was very tired. He feared the day the street. I walked into my home and in my bed, I slept until dawn.
started for me a new life, an ill-fated death. "Maybe it was my destiny to denounce the suffering suprimiéndote that freed you? But I have no ears or mouth. And since nothing attracts my eyes.
You were my breath, and Sara the cry of my really abused. The truth is like a teenager. You can do anything with it, but you can also do much for her. You can die or live under their law.
was by your side, Yukel when your hands are clinging to the sheet. Your rattling - were so weak? - Not anyone worried about us. You went into a coma and then I stayed rigid
few hours later. I did not wait to come and knock on your door. I fled.
Your lover in hell withered flowers. Dementia, later, he said. It seems their cries today are more desperate. Well of his being in pain, helpless body that the soul becomes as transparent as light. His bones are like a landscape revealed by the flesh. You see the teeth through the cheek.
Where will I go, unfolded?
A writer escapes with the words, and of those, some, sometimes one or two, followed by death. A word is first a colony and then a name. Two names were fighting my heart and my mind. I found in the depths of myself and there was the one I had, in the darkness, lived. Like you, yesterday, I'm exhausted. My past is weighted with plundering, persecution. My past nods to an illusory support, a sympathetic shoulder or my table.
and I have no ambition. I'm open passage of light where I threw.
"What is a writer? , Asked a famous narrator Reb Hod. A man of letters? No, sure, but a shadow that leads a man. "
You were the man, Yukel, this man and the martyr.
I eclipsaré, soon.
back from the fields of concentration guilty to consecrate your last minute and my sheets smell like ashes in your faith.
The book is a time of the injury or eternity.
The world is limited to us.
2. Portrait of Sara and the cry Yukel
Hands
fled, clinging to your lights.
Heaven hath mistaken for birds.
The nest has dethroned the bow and the tree. REB
Lézer The white line on the white page is the outline of the cry.
no longer afraid of the obstacle.
will not clog the ink. Do you let the bird
a footprint of your flight?
You continue to look at the bird.
Here, the ear is the order.
("The eye does see what you hear, what you taste, which feels
. I am all eyes on my body."
Gamrie REB)
And Yukel said
Who knows drinking in my words?
Have I known how to tell?
In my book, in the midst of solitude, your loneliness
is me, forever due.
* * * * *
3. In no time your face
described
The object increases the object. REB
SAFAB
I dance, God is my Idea. REB
KARAM "What is an Idea?
A dancer. On a
Music circumstances
dance.
rejoice, rejoice, brothers,
the show.
ideas aim to please you.
Ballet of my life. Ballet
my death.
not provoke the dancers.
can be cruel.
Give them your love, brothers. .
are beautiful. "Reb Elamí
" I carry within me the deserts, hot sand of silence. The sea around the sea in the distance is, in my shoulders, shawl trimmed with fringe that the jitter in prayer
ripples. "
Sim Reb
"Dialogue, in myself, with the other. Reflection. To think is to go after a question. "Reb Ivel
" Not to be confused with thinking idea, dagger dance.
-precision blow, inaccurate responses of the victim. "Reb
Watch
"Bloody stride. Hit forward. The thought is strap and knife. "Reb Ladev
And Yukel said
described in no time your face;
sobered lovers, isolated on the days and nights of my books,
although not without excuses or occasions.
The face of hope is a spike.
The face of pain, a mirror.
* * * * *
4.
Yukel Journal was my street, my neighborhood. There were before me.
Who stole the jewelry? Who drove me from my bed of velvet?
East is a ruby \u200b\u200bon the forehead of a woman. I was the lamp
account of the palace. I am a piece of glass on the road. REB
Lahan
God is attached to the wall come down in the Temple. None
purple from now, will be ours. REB
NALEH
October 5 I have looked in the mirror and I saw a gray-eyed teenager over the sky in winter
whose tears were matched by the rain against the glass.
Face of my face.
John Doe, am I Yukel
in his soul harassed.
The hostage. October 9
not think of myself. I think of myself in the other, as documented hostility. I think of myself in love
Sara.
A loop in the loop is the weapon.
October 12 I lose the habit of exercising my mind.
Someday, will recover my pen, my voice.
Will I use them?
The blank page is page of patience.
giant shadow. Shadow of shadows
scattered throughout the world.
The night is a moth on the night of the lamps.
I have come to visit my ancestors.
I have not, to whom in common than the word preserved in the folds of the word.
October 15 Life has taken the factions of the enemy and face death my enemy.
Fraternal October 16.
as hunger hunger.
As the sheet with foil.
As the beam with the beam. November 3
Soon, I will perhaps unnoticed.
have earned. November 6
vulnerable body, affixed to the door.
The soul has all the science of silence.
9 de noviembre
El mundo es un fanal de memoria.
Estrella, olvido que parpadea.
13 de noviembre
«La boca es el manantial más pequeño, decía Reb Albaglí y sin embargo calma la sed de la
humanidad.»
* * * * *
5. Diario de Sara I
Me duele ya ti te duele por mí.
Hacer daño, lo que puedo ofrecer para una partición.
7 de marzo
No escribiré nada acerca de lo que he visto. Escribo al pie del instante que esquivo, a rastras
de una pregunta preñada de preguntas.
El mar es mi casa.
No escribiré nada acerca de la calle, drowned tree foliage.
not write anything about the brutality of men, the word desecrated.
Guilty, guilty, alienated in the heart and eyes of my father and my mother,
by a resurgence of dementia
whose steps are the building burned.
Alone in my terror to look over the wall.
Alone in my shadow stubborn. March 8
The sky has been restored to heaven tonight. All the stars have returned to take his place
.
I wonder, though each one out unhurt from the fire, I targeted for exile. April 10
Tombs day. My grief has
gravestones and I am the lizard in the interstices.
Opongo April 11 to life the truth of emptiness.
My banks do not have water.
We discuss in the bottom of the river, but on the surface.
April 17 Is death the worm in the fruit or the summer sun?
The winter of my life hanging from my eyelashes, my lips.
Spring is our domestic season, the only one.
The sky of the soul has three hundred sixty-five times the size of the sky. Spring
late spring struck by lightning. Wherever step
no mall.
Formo April 23, my arms submerged the arc of a makeshift bridge.
But what country in which continent? Beautiful rainbow
captive
Where is dearer to me? Praise
loop, tying the mark. Did
is no longer round the world?
May 3 Giving a voice to the eaves. Dangerously
standing as a bolus.
I fall, with each play. May 4
My light sleep, my dream of cork clogs my life.
A bottle into the sea. May 6
try to understand, to join my forces.
I bitter much with my body I've taken most of the burden. Did
hunger before knowing the hungry?
In my transparency, as under the ink blot, the thin sheet for the draft.
May 15 at the foot of a tree which I Lay to associate, through its branches, the sky and my
insensitivity. Being
two best Marble shared. May 16
The real death is in a sky finish and not in a valley of false appearances.
I veil, tired of vigils. Tan Tan
ruin down.
June 11 Dudar perhaps abolish the limits, turning around to die.
land, land where everything is simple.
God is doubt.
12dejunio
Free deceived.
perfect water denied to the language of the lighthouse.
June 21 I would have liked to be only a song, my life and have lasted.
But that hard. That hurts.
The ivory of devotion.
I'm tougher than the duration
July 18
The bay has the modesty of a wood pallet in love rather than colors. I have used foam
, overloads, surges. After being
meat, it was natural to attempt to re marble to be marble.
July 19 Breaking the bread of others for others. Mine is bread hard.
July 22 Miro
long time to beings, things, before you see them, then I got used to his presence
and disappear quietly. July 23
not the silence of the wood but the silence of the stone. Not the absence of the voice that can betray the memory
but the confession of fertile silt worm.
Underground July 27 as the springs.
And nothing on the horizon, unless a mine.
July 31 We can imagine a face in a vacuum, in which case the vacuum draws our attention for its
like us.
Is it me you look straight in the eye?
The shadow is dominated by the shadow, as the hand by the upper hand.
