We’re out until January 5, but we’re re-posting some of our favorite pieces from 2014 while we’re away. We hope you enjoy—and have a happy New Year!
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A political poem’s ironic new life.
Bialik at around age thirty.
ON THE SLAUGHTER Heaven—have mercy.If you hold a God(to whom there’s a paththat I haven’t found), pray for me.My heart has died. There is no prayer on my lips.My hope and strength are gone.How long? How much longer? Executioner, here’s my neck:Slaughter! You’ve got the ax and the arm.The world to me is a butcher-block—we, whose numbers are smallit’s open season on our blood:Crack a skull—let the bloodof infant and elder spurt on your chest,and let it remain there forever, and ever. If there’s justice—let it come now!But if it should come after I’ve beenblotted out beneath the sky,let its throne be cast down.Let the heavens rot in evil everlasting,and you, with your cruelty,go in your iniquityand live and bathe in your blood. And cursed be he who cries out: Revenge!Vengeance like this, for the blood of a child,Satan has yet to devise.Let the blood fill the abyss!Let it pierce the blackest depthsand devour the darknessand eat away and reachthe rotting foundations of the earth.
ON THE SLAUGHTER
Heaven—have mercy.If you hold a God(to whom there’s a paththat I haven’t found), pray for me.My heart has died. There is no prayer on my lips.My hope and strength are gone.How long? How much longer?
Executioner, here’s my neck:Slaughter! You’ve got the ax and the arm.The world to me is a butcher-block—we, whose numbers are smallit’s open season on our blood:Crack a skull—let the bloodof infant and elder spurt on your chest,and let it remain there forever, and ever.
If there’s justice—let it come now!But if it should come after I’ve beenblotted out beneath the sky,let its throne be cast down.Let the heavens rot in evil everlasting,and you, with your cruelty,go in your iniquityand live and bathe in your blood.
And cursed be he who cries out: Revenge!Vengeance like this, for the blood of a child,Satan has yet to devise.Let the blood fill the abyss!Let it pierce the blackest depthsand devour the darknessand eat away and reachthe rotting foundations of the earth.
Political poems lead strange lives—they often wither on the vines of the events they’re tied to. Old news gives way to new, and the whole undertaking starts to seem, well, an expense of spirit in a waste of shame. For many and maybe most American readers, “poetry and politics just don’t mix.”
But sometimes they do. Quite violently.
On June 12, three Israeli teenagers were kidnapped while hitchhiking home together from their West Bank yeshivas. They were murdered—most likely within hours of being taken—and, eighteen days later, after an extensive search, their bodies were discovered under some rocks in a field near Hebron. Israel mourned, and raged. Emerging from a cabinet meeting convened just after the corpses were found, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu expressed his condolences to the families and quoted the great modernist Hebrew poet Hayim Nahman Bialik: “Vengeance … for the blood of a small child, / Satan has not yet created.” He went on in his own words: “Hamas is responsible—and Hamas will pay.” For good measure, the Prime Minister’s office tweeted the lines as well.
As anyone who hasn’t lived atop a column in the Congo for the past seven weeks knows, a series of violent, retaliatory acts followed. Israel carried out mass arrests on the West Bank, killing six in the process; a Palestinian teenager was beaten and burned alive by a group of Jews; throngs of Palestinians destroyed tracks and stations on the Jerusalem light-rail line; Jewish gangs shouting “Death to the Arabs!” rampaged through Jerusalem in search of victims—and found them; some thirty-five thousand Facebook users “liked” a page called “The People of Israel Demand Revenge”; Hamas fired rockets by the dozen into Israel from Gaza; Hamas officials warned that “the gates of hell” would open if Israel attacked in retaliation for the killings or the shelling. Read More >>
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