[High bough with flowers]
BY SOLOMON IBN GABIROL, TRANS. BY DAN ALTER
High bough with its flowers that set my heart flying
& fragrant branch planting need in my mind
He stands, an ivory column, fine in the eyes of every
fine young man who goes weak in the knees wanting him
From studying love he knows the code of hearts–
you will let him have yours, as he sets eyes on you
Lovers might cry for me, but not enough
because I moan for his dove-eyes like a dove moans
His cheeks–like gold apples in silver carvings
& those are words perfectly turned
His breasts–like golden pomegranates wrapped
in gold, & oh that I could taste their wine!
[In the sky clouds bellowed]
BY SOLOMON IBN GABIROL, TRANS. BY DAN ALTER
In the sky clouds bellowed like bulls as winter glowered, furious
Like sailboats driven by a storm their captains sounding out ram’s horns
& thunderheads wandered in the murk where even morning stars were swallowed
Then the sun bore them winging over land & when they broke open it too was opened
How they hung, dropped downward then lifted & sailed away like eagles
Wind pounded the rain to sheets, shredding clouds to strands that sank deep in the ground
Quenching it, smoothing out its folds readying its furrows for planting
To unveil the mountain’s yield, hidden like secrets unknown though one might know them
All winter long the clouds wept until the woodlands that had died out were revived
