Rachel's and Wilfred Owen's poems - in their own handwriting!

Dear readers - here's a rare gem I'd found today. Many of Rachel's poems - in her own handwriting! I wrote about Rachel last year: a translation of Closed Garden.

Also, a site that I had known of for some years - First World War poetry digital archive - includes originals of Wilfred Owen's poems in his handwriting. I wrote about Owen's Anthem For Doomed Youth" and Parable of the Old Man and the Young

So we have split / Leah Goldberg [translated]

To the same X., as a token of friendship.
To S., for loving this poem.

So we have split, thus well the anger lingers,
The fog between us as a wall.
The little drop remaining on my fingers,
Must be a raindrop, not a tear at all.

Our age is shamed by crying to a fault,
No one will cry for love that's coming to an end.
Both Judgement Day and Mercy's Nights we'll fend,
Indifferent and proud &emdash; tears won't fall.

So we have split, the street has yelled and cheered,
Some rush has thrust me forth, while all against,
Hung like a bridal veil, the fog appeared.
But why my heart is filled with joy unbased?
Perhaps &emdash in spite of all — it was a tear.

Translated by yours truly.

נפרדנו כך. היטב, היטב חרה לי.
הערפל בינינו כחומה.
זאת הטיפה שעל ידי נותרה לי
טיפת סגריר ודאי היא, לא דמעה.
לדור הזה הבכי הוא כלימה,
הוא לא יבכה על אהבה גוססת.
ביום הדין ובלילות החסד
אדיש וגא הוא לא יוריד דמעה.
נפרדנו כך הרחוב המה, המה.
דחפני איזה הלך, ומנגד
הערפל תלוי כהינומה.
מאין בלבי חדווה חוגגת?
אולי, בכל זאת, זו הייתה דמעה.

A link to a high-school level analysis of the poem.

Strawberries / Yona Wallach [translated, WARNING - RACY!]

With gratitude to P., the best squad commander I've ever had, who inadvertently reminded me about this poem's existence.

Yona Wallach (יונה וולך) was a modern Israeli poet, whose style was a rare combination of the obscene and the spirited. Her poem Strawberries is one of her last works.

Original in Hebrew.

When you come to sleep with me,
You shall wear a black dress
Decorated with them strawberries
And a black kerchief
Also decorated with them strawberries,
And you shall grasp a basket of them strawberries
And sell me them strawberries,
And say in a voice that is thin and sweet -
'Them Strawberries, Sirrah, Them Strawberries,
Do you want Them Strawberries?',
And wear not a thing under that dress,
For then,
Strings will raise you up above,
Invisible or otherwise,
And will lower you,
Straight upon my penis.

Translation mine.

Here this poem is used to a great effect in by Hahamishia Hakamerit in their comic sketch "The Sergeant's Quotes":