Today marks 21 days along the journey of the three weeks culminating in the deepest darkness of the 9th of Av– where the crack in everything open to utter destruction. Sitting in the depth of absence exposes complete suffering. On the eve of our destruction, I turn to new fruits offered by the Hebrew poetr, Sivan Har-Shefi. Dr. Sivan Har-Shefi has a doctorate from the Department of Hebrew Literature at Bar-Ilan University. She teaches literature and creative writing at Herzog College, and is one of the founders and leaders of the Beit Midrash “Zohar Hai”. An accomplished and profound poet, Sivan was the Prime Minister Prize laureate in 2012. She is the author of three books — Levithan’s Exile (2005), Psalm for a Day of Thunder (2010), and Sun Which Ecclesiastes Knew Not (2014), published by Rythmus KM Press — and is the editor of the Atar journal of literature and art. Dr. Har-Shefi is married to Avishar and is the mother of five. She lived in Tekoa and now resides in Jerusalem. From her most recent yet to be published offering, called, “My Part” from Awaken (2023) we are called upon to reconsider amdist the depth of destruction what each of us has been called to build before and after the destruction:
“My Part” – Sivan Har Shefi
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
I destabilized the earth
I expanded cracks
as if there were life to them
ashamed and disgraced
dilapidated vineyard
thirsty vines
upon the rains did I abandon
their neediness
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
You are the blanket that’s much too short
always too short
I was drawn to myself
to leave others behind to wallow
in the cold
Those grasping onto my margins
I diminished myself in order to grow
I deflected in order to fly
but to where
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
I silenced myself over sin
I fled from the scent of
Danger. From her dangers my exploits
I seeded fire
in the field of thorns in the house
I extinguished fire
on the Sabbath
I stained my white blouse
with coals.
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
I shortened life
When I wanted to extend it
I weakened like Delilah
I became engrossed
I earned
I became licentious
I did not hoist Gaza
as the crown of my joy
in the summit of my benefiting others to forget
those descending into the valley and desert
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
From atop the pit to the abyss, I sang
From the place where others reached out to give a hand
Upon the bed laying there where I lay
On the day of the ashen cradle
On the beautiful bowl of fruit
I overturned the rotting fruit to
The bottom, I applied make-up to my face
I disappeared into the cloud haze
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
I am the one who sought to weave
my situatedness unraveling
I who adjured to choose life
I arose in the morn with deep desire
to die.
While I spoke in praise of the adorning rectification
I was broken
sanctifying your Name
was I desecrating.
Upon the altar of my inner conviction
I brought others near
I also fell prey
I am the one who has come here to build
all the while knowing that I have a part in the destruction
From deep devotion was I suffocated
from great reverence was i silenced
from great compassion was i scattered
from deep love was i shattered from expectation
& what is here
& unto where
I am the one who has a part in the destruction
all the while knowing that i came
to build
חלְקִי” מ-עוּרִי, (סדרת ריתמוס של הוצאת הקיבוץ המאוחד, 2023)
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
זִעְזַעְתִּי אֲדָמָה
הִרְחַבְתִּי סְדָקִים
אֵלּוּ חַיִּים שֶׁיֵּשׁ בָּהֶם
בּוּשָׁה וּכְלִמָּה
כֶּרֶם מֻזְנָח
גְּפָנִים צְמֵאוֹת
עַל הַגְּשָׁמִים נָטַשְׁתִּי
מַחְסוֹרָן
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
אֶת הַשְּׂמִיכָה הַקְּצָרָה מִדַּי
תָּמִיד קְצָרָה מִדַּי
מָשַׁכְתִּי אֵלַי
מוֹתִירָה אֲחֵרִים לְהִתְגּוֹלֵל
בַּקָּרָה
אֶת הָאוֹחֲזִים בְּשׁוּלַי
הִקְטַנְתִּי כְּדֵי לִגְדֹּל
הָדַפְתִּי כְּדֵי לָעוּף
לְהֵיכָן
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
שָׁתַקְתִּי עַל פֶּשַׁע
בָּרַחְתִּי מֵרֵיחַ
סַכָּנָה. מִסְכֵּנֶיהָ עֲשׁוּקַי
זָרַעְתִּי אֵשׁ
בִּשְׂדֵה קוֹצִים בַּבַּיִת.
כִּבִּיתִי אֵשׁ
בְּשַׁבָּת.
הִכְתַּמְתִּי בְּפֶחָם
שִׂמְלַת לָבָן.
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
קִצַּרְתִּי חַיִּים
שֶׁרָצִיתִי לְהַאֲרִיךְ.
הֶחֱלַשְׁתִּי כִּדְלִילָה.
הִתְמַכַּרְתִּי
הִשְׁתַּכַּרְתִּי
הָיִיתִי הוֹלְלָה.
לֹא הֶעֱלִיתִי אֶת עַזָּה
עַל רֹאשׁ שִׂמְחוֹתַי.
בַּפְּסָגוֹת הֵיטַבְתִּי לִשְׁכֹּחַ
יוֹרְדֵי גַּיְא וּמִדְבָּר.
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
מֵעַל לַבּוֹר וְלִתְהוֹם, שַׁרְתִּי –
מָקוֹם שֶׁאֲחֵרִים הוֹשִׁיטוּ יָד.
עַל מִטָּה נוֹחָה שָׁכַבְתִּי
בְּיוֹם עֶרֶשׂ עָפָר.
בְּקַעֲרַת הַפֵּרוֹת הַיָּפָה
הָפַכְתִּי אֶת רְקַב הַפְּרִי אֶל
הַתַּחְתִּית. אִפַּרְתִּי פָּנַי,
הִלַּכְתִּי בְּשׂוּמַת עָנָן.
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
אֲנִי שֶׁבִּקַּשְׁתִּי לִרְקֹם
נִמְצֵאתִי פּוֹרֶמֶת
אֲנִי שֶׁנִּשְׁבַּעְתִּי לִבְחֹר בְּחַיִּים
קַמְתִּי בֹּקֶר בֹּקֶר עִם רָצוֹן עַז
לָמוּת.
דִּבַּרְתִּי בִּשְׁבַח הַתִּקּוּן
הָיִיתִי מְקַלְקֶלֶת
קִדַּשְׁתִּי שִׁמְךָ
הָיִיתִי מְחַלֶּלֶת.
עַל מִזְבְּחוֹת אֱמוּנָתִי
הִקְרַבְתִּי אֲחֵרִים
גַּם נָפַלְתִּי קָרְבָּן.
אֲנִי שֶׁבָּאתִי לְכָאן לִבְנוֹת
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
מֵרֹב אֲדִיקוּת, חָנַקְתִּי
מֵרֹב יִרְאָה, שֻׁתַּקְתִּי
מֵרֹב חֶסֶד, הִתְפַּזַּרְתִּי
מֵרֹב אַהֲבָה, קִלְקַלְתִּי שׁוּרוֹת
וּמָה מִכָּאן
וּלְאָן
אֲנִי שֶׁיֵּשׁ לִי חֵלֶק בַּחֻרְבָּן
יוֹדַעַת שֶׁבָּאתִי
לִבְנוֹת