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රජෙකු වෙනුවෙන්.....Rajeku Wenuwen....
- Thread starter archirasika
- Start date
About the poet...
Dahlia Ravikovitch
Dahlia Ravikovitch (1936-2005), one of the great Hebrew poets of our time -- indeed, many believe, the greatest Hebrew woman poet of all time -- was widely honored for her artistry and admired for her courage as a peace activist. Power and powerlessness is her defining subject: the devastating consequences of unequal power relations for the individual and for society, the self in a state of crisis refracting the state of the nation. Her early work articulates the asymmetries of power in poems about fathers and daughters, men and women, kings and their subjects. The later work focusses more intently on the precarious position of women and, with increasing directness, the plight of Palestinians under the Occupation. A raw openness to pain, her own pain and that of others, hurts her into poetry, as Auden famously said of Yeats.
The last twenty-five years of her life mark the crowning achievement of Ravikovitch’s poetic project—the period when the private and the public merge with extraordinary expressive force in her work. Now she is haunted by the inseparability of concerns with war, woman, and child. She explores the parallels between the plight of the Palestinians, the suffering of Jews in the diaspora, and the constraints on women in patriarchal society. Her heightened focus on abuse is accompanied by a keen awareness of the moral responsibility of the writer. It is notoriously difficult to write political poetry without lapsing into harangue. Ravikovitch meets this challenge head-on by situating the protest in the crosscurrents of her own conflicted life, expressing her own sense of guilt and complicity—a strategy that enables the wary reader to hear her out.
Her fragile health and reclusiveness did not deter Ravikovitch from becoming deeply involved in the cause of Palestinian human rights. She often joined demonstrations against forced evacuations, land confiscation and the mistreatment of women and children in the West Bank. She frequently spoke out on television and in print, condemning the messianic nationalist settlers, and didn’t hesitate to confront Israel’s leaders directly. One of her targets was the abuse of language in the political realm. Such activism required no small measure of courage. “Like deep-sea divers,” she wrote, “most poets lead a high-risk life because they are compelled to listen with such scrupulous attention to the very essence of words.” Her standing as a beloved poet laureate of sorts allowed her protest to carry some weight with the Israeli public. Still, she was frank about the reception of her political poems in Israel: “There has been a lot of protest,” she told us, “because those poems seem to some readers like an admission of guilt, but I’m happy with them. I want to do something. I can't stand my impotence.” In a 2004 television interview she elaborated: “Because I hold an Israeli passport, I have a share in all the wrongs that are done to the Palestinians. . . . I want to be able to say that I did all I could to prevent the bloodshed.”
-- Chana Bloch and Chana Kronfeld
Dahlia Ravikovitch
Dahlia Ravikovitch (1936-2005), one of the great Hebrew poets of our time -- indeed, many believe, the greatest Hebrew woman poet of all time -- was widely honored for her artistry and admired for her courage as a peace activist. Power and powerlessness is her defining subject: the devastating consequences of unequal power relations for the individual and for society, the self in a state of crisis refracting the state of the nation. Her early work articulates the asymmetries of power in poems about fathers and daughters, men and women, kings and their subjects. The later work focusses more intently on the precarious position of women and, with increasing directness, the plight of Palestinians under the Occupation. A raw openness to pain, her own pain and that of others, hurts her into poetry, as Auden famously said of Yeats.
The last twenty-five years of her life mark the crowning achievement of Ravikovitch’s poetic project—the period when the private and the public merge with extraordinary expressive force in her work. Now she is haunted by the inseparability of concerns with war, woman, and child. She explores the parallels between the plight of the Palestinians, the suffering of Jews in the diaspora, and the constraints on women in patriarchal society. Her heightened focus on abuse is accompanied by a keen awareness of the moral responsibility of the writer. It is notoriously difficult to write political poetry without lapsing into harangue. Ravikovitch meets this challenge head-on by situating the protest in the crosscurrents of her own conflicted life, expressing her own sense of guilt and complicity—a strategy that enables the wary reader to hear her out.
Her fragile health and reclusiveness did not deter Ravikovitch from becoming deeply involved in the cause of Palestinian human rights. She often joined demonstrations against forced evacuations, land confiscation and the mistreatment of women and children in the West Bank. She frequently spoke out on television and in print, condemning the messianic nationalist settlers, and didn’t hesitate to confront Israel’s leaders directly. One of her targets was the abuse of language in the political realm. Such activism required no small measure of courage. “Like deep-sea divers,” she wrote, “most poets lead a high-risk life because they are compelled to listen with such scrupulous attention to the very essence of words.” Her standing as a beloved poet laureate of sorts allowed her protest to carry some weight with the Israeli public. Still, she was frank about the reception of her political poems in Israel: “There has been a lot of protest,” she told us, “because those poems seem to some readers like an admission of guilt, but I’m happy with them. I want to do something. I can't stand my impotence.” In a 2004 television interview she elaborated: “Because I hold an Israeli passport, I have a share in all the wrongs that are done to the Palestinians. . . . I want to be able to say that I did all I could to prevent the bloodshed.”
-- Chana Bloch and Chana Kronfeld
[FONT="]This was the original poem....
[/FONT]
[FONT="]On Account of a King[/FONT]
[FONT="]The great army conquered the sea,
Its flank pressed heavy onto Sidon.
Greek isles groaned under its loins;
The orphans of Galilee sobbed. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Hulking soldiers in fetid rags
Crowded into the coastal markets.
The market women recoiled in fright
But the elders kept fawning on them. [/FONT]
[FONT="]The towering soldiers, sore beset,
Had to barter with colored stones.
Even in the cobbled city square
Their eyes seemed to gather moss. [/FONT]
[FONT="]They’d whisper into each others’ ears,
The hawkers all convulsed with laughter:
The great Emperor, Lord of the Troops,
Hath neither sword nor spear! [/FONT]
[FONT="]In the dark corners of the marketplace
The youths of Sidon huddled with their lords,
Creeping about in cliques and cabals
To snatch at the reins of power. [/FONT]
[FONT="]The great army never stirred from its tents,
Shadows leaned over lances all night.
They had no leisure, those thickset men,
To dally where the beds are soft.[/FONT]
[FONT="]But the eyes of the youths glittered like coins,
The hawkers brazenly stashed their gains.
Dimmed were all the centurions’ eyes
For their king had neither sword nor spear. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Line 2, flank . . . upon Sidon. Gen. 49:13, “his flank upon Sidon” (Alter, Five Books of Moses). May be loosely based on the conquest of Sidon (in today’s Lebanon) by the Roman general Pompey the Great in 64 B.C.[/FONT]
[/FONT]
[FONT="]On Account of a King[/FONT]
[FONT="]The great army conquered the sea,
Its flank pressed heavy onto Sidon.
Greek isles groaned under its loins;
The orphans of Galilee sobbed. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Hulking soldiers in fetid rags
Crowded into the coastal markets.
The market women recoiled in fright
But the elders kept fawning on them. [/FONT]
[FONT="]The towering soldiers, sore beset,
Had to barter with colored stones.
Even in the cobbled city square
Their eyes seemed to gather moss. [/FONT]
[FONT="]They’d whisper into each others’ ears,
The hawkers all convulsed with laughter:
The great Emperor, Lord of the Troops,
Hath neither sword nor spear! [/FONT]
[FONT="]In the dark corners of the marketplace
The youths of Sidon huddled with their lords,
Creeping about in cliques and cabals
To snatch at the reins of power. [/FONT]
[FONT="]The great army never stirred from its tents,
Shadows leaned over lances all night.
They had no leisure, those thickset men,
To dally where the beds are soft.[/FONT]
[FONT="]But the eyes of the youths glittered like coins,
The hawkers brazenly stashed their gains.
Dimmed were all the centurions’ eyes
For their king had neither sword nor spear. [/FONT]
[FONT="]Line 2, flank . . . upon Sidon. Gen. 49:13, “his flank upon Sidon” (Alter, Five Books of Moses). May be loosely based on the conquest of Sidon (in today’s Lebanon) by the Roman general Pompey the Great in 64 B.C.[/FONT]
Thanks for sharing it vth us bro......
It's really smthin....
Good work...
It's really smthin....
Good work...
meka nam niyamai. habai mul kaviyath kiyawala tibbanam terum meeta wada hodata vidinna tibba kiyala hithuna
kohoma namuth athi sarthaka nirmanayak bawa nam itha pahadiliy
kohoma namuth athi sarthaka nirmanayak bawa nam itha pahadiliy
Last edited:
meka nam niyamai. habai mul kaviyath kiyawala tibbanam terum meeta wada hodata vidinna tibba kiyala hithuna
kohoma namuth athi sarthaka nirmanayak bawa nam itha pahadiliy
mula kaviyath mama daaal tiyenne sahodaree... ekath balanna..
godak stootiy....
niyamai usas kawiyak... thnx for sharing.. ape kattiya mekatath election 1ka gaawaganeewida danne na 
niyamai usas kawiyak... thnx for sharing.. ape kattiya mekatath election 1ka gaawaganeewida danne na
elelction nathi unath me kaviye ape ratata wadagath samanathawayak tiyenawa brother....
elelction nathi unath me kaviye ape ratata wadagath samanathawayak tiyenawa brother....
ow eka aththa eth a samanakama goda denek dakinna kamathi na
ow eka aththa eth a samanakama goda denek dakinna kamathi na
godak aya sathyayata bayai malli....
anarga nirmanayak aya.......sarthakayi.......
me wage nirmanayak apith eka beda hada gaththata thuti hadawathinma.....
me wage nirmanayak apith eka beda hada gaththata thuti hadawathinma.....
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