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Peace from Harmony
Hedva Robinson Bachrach: For Peace and Harmony

Dr. Hedva Rabinson Bachrach

 


 

Hativat Givati 7 app. 19, Natanya Israel 42463

tel972-9-8857762

hedgad@netvision.net.il

 

DAUGHTER OF THE POET HAIM RABINSON AND SHULAMIT GERMAN RABINSON. BORN IN RUMANIA. IMMIGRATED TO ISRAEL AFTER WORLD WAR II, IN 1944.

 

FINISHED HER P.H.D – DOCTORATE DEGREE IN COMPARATIVE LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY OF RELIGIONS, ALSO STUDIED ANTROPOLOGY FOR 5 YEARS, AS A FREE LISTENER.

 

HEDVA HAS LIVED IN SEVERAL COUNTRIES, BECAUSE OF HER HUSBAND'S WORK o­n WORLD BANK PROJECTS IN TRANSPORTATION PLANNING. IN BETWEEN, AT HOME, SHE WORKED AT THE ISRAELI MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS, AS A TEACHER AND LECTURER, AS A translator from five languages at the i.d.fand finally, for many years, as head of information in the institutes of the Israeli trade union center, consulting trade unions about pension schemes, work laws and work crisis.

 

SHE IS A MEMBER OF THE WRITERS' ORGANIZATIONS , the cultural liason officer with other countries of the Israeli council of women organizations and alsoWORKS AS THE CIR OF THE ACADEMIC WOMEN ORGANIZATION, AS WELL AS THE INTERNATIONAL FEDERATION OF UNIVERSITY WOMEN FROM 72 COUNTRIES, WHERE SHE COMPLETED, 7 YEARS AGO, TWO TERMS: 6 YEARS OF MEMBERSHIP o­n THE PROJECT COMMITTEE, DEALING WITH COMMUNITY PROJECTS IN eastern EUROPEan countries, Turkey and Egypt AND in the last 3 years – community projects in a fewASIAn countries.

 

HAS PUBLISHED SEVERAL BOOKS OF POETRY AND PROSE, FOR o­nE OF WHICH SHE GOT A LITTERARY PRIZE. Recently World Poetry AlmNac in Mongolia published her book, in the world poetry series, she also PUBLISHED CRITICISM AND HER LITERARY WORKS IN MANY LITERARY MAGAZINES IN ISRAEL AND ABROAD.

 

HER FIELD OF ACADEMIC RESEARCH IS THE INFLUENCE OF ETHNIC TRADITIONS o­n POETRY AND PROSE IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES.

 

 

No wars, my dear o­ne

 

No wars, dear o­ne

Do not let our poor dwelling

With its corners of love

Fill up with human enmity

 

And no sorrow, my beloved

Because the joys which hymn in the heart

Herald birth and life

And when I see you

Do not let them make way

For the empty void of desolation and decay

 

And without the rigid uniform of ashes

And steel spokes,

My beautiful o­ne,

Let the gold rays of the sun

And dream-silvered waves

Be play-cushions for the limbs of your body

To hold… to save…

 

Refreshed and moist run to me

And I to thee

My breasts revealed

Glowing and warm there I shall wait

And yield

 

And without the thought of murderous deadly malice

-sounds of metal and of man-

As when man kills the lurking foe

He killed the foetus-fruit of my womb

Identical faces

And also the buds of the first love

That are yet to bloom

 

No wars, my own dear friend

 

 

 

I went to meet the war

 

I went to meet the war

 

And I met a child, who was told and whispered to, and talked to and said and saidand laughed and kicked and whistled and shouted

 

And I met a boy who was told, and whispered to,

And said to and talked to,and he laughed and was angry with and shrieked and hollered

 

I met a man who was angry, and twisted and was sneaking and stood rigid and said and talked and roared and shrieked and whistled and whispered and said…

 

A child with a gun made of plastic, a boy with a Kalashnikov rifle and a man with a rocket o­n his shoulder..

They carry and load and tarry in twisted croed dark corners, with heavy solid- scrap metal which drags its chains and the inner joints ofa child, a boy, a man….

Imprisoned in Ali-Baba's jars – not of clay but of metal….

 

Until steel penetrated their eyes, their hands, their brain… into the curving neurons the metal infused.. space bioniccreatures, supermen .. offsprings of melted sharpnels, of uranium earth clods..

 

And they move forth and back in the intercourse of flesh and metal, move, throw, knock, aim multitudes of hard semen faraway into the flesh womb – into the burning horizon which kindles, burns its lust..

 

Suns explode.. Super nova – and they are trapped, fused into motion, the hurl, and the sprinkle of man's semen which carry the storm of flaming dust particles which burn… and burn… and burn…

 

Nobody listened… nobody heard

The distant echo of an ancient decree

 

Thou shalt not make a god of iron!

 

And all he wanted were her nipples, her breasts and her ….

 

 

THE LEGEND OF THE TEAR

 

Between the city of Nazareth and Kibbutz Ginegar there was a forest, a forest of oaks and pine, and inthe forest was a rock like the palm of a hand, a simple stone, full of holes, outstretched to the treetops, to the dark cloud….

 

On the rock there was a tear…

A single tear

 

The tear trembled……..

 

The first light crept between the leaves and was broken into fragments.It was absorbed into myriad hues: white, golden, mauve, red, leaf green…And the tear sipped the light with moisture ….thirstily.The ancient stones fell silent and the mount sent perchance a stone, perchance a rock, raising like a palm's mossy tendons, and upon it the tear. It seemed as if pearly drops were being interlaced up and down, up and down, like a weeping light…. the animals of the forest did not knowwhether the tear came from up above or from below. If there was o­nly o­ne, or if there were many?

The forest dormouse changed its routine: in the light it descended from the tree to lick the dew o­n the mosses of the trunk. It stopped and gazed at the rock. Rubbed with its paws its eyes, climbed back and overcome by curiosity slid down again, barely skimming the trunk

 

It burrowed into the ground and its moist, inquisitive nose became filled with pollen and forest twigs. Its white-brown spots flashed, and it turned its head to gaily chase after its tail…jumping and trying to catch it. The forest dormouse ran in circles after its bushy tail, soft and hairy like a beginning trying to discover its playfulness.

 

Pine needles and leaves in the forest fell to the ground and covered each other and from among there appeared a slow-worm. It crawled writhing leaving behind a trail ofslimeand swallowing with its gaping muzzle small creeping insects, blindly, unknowingly… the tear quivered slightly, became distorted,and became round. The slow-worm crawled, the leaves rustled and the tear became distorted…

 

The forest was chock-full with life and fauna…big doves cooed in their nests and flew about with a loud flapping of wings. Before they brought seed for their young, they stopped to pause next to the tear.

 

They hovered and their eyes were filled with slivers of the lights.With their wings they beat the wind, and borne by it they moved away from the tear, bearing in their beaks a glimmering color to take to their young o­nes.

 

And the tear sensed the fall of the leaves and the pine needles, in the motion of the doves' wings and the image of the falcon hovering high above it. The falcon, reflected in the tear,filled it with its instant frozen gaze.On seeing its quivering image in the tear – the falcon screeched, and its scream was swallowed up in the silence of the tear.

 

And the fallow deer came to the edges of the efflorescence to breathe in the fragrance of a tear, like the scents of the forest…

 

The fallow deer who moved the thicket of its horns to and fro, impressingits horns o­n the trunk of a silver birch, stood alone, silent and gazing, not moving from the temple of the tear, full of love..

 

And the tear saw.

 

In the sparks of light dropping out from the twilight hour light it filled with the reflections of the fallow deer and another and another deer imagewith tangled mass of horns.The tear swelled, pregnant with the images of fallow deer in their silken gold. It felt the love of thedeer, and became purified and crystal clear….

 

The day turned gray. Torrential rain poured down o­n the rock in the forest clearing and trickled through the crevices in the stone. The tear recoiled at the fury of its sisters,and became roundto avoid their cold sniping and the wind's lashing. Quivering and distorted, it wished to absorb their rage and to appease them. All the animals of the forest came to the tear's rock. They stood side by side: the leopards, spotted with honey and white, took shelter next to the fallow deer and the tiger cubs and the jackals clung together to keep warm. A snake reached close to the rock, coiling its tail so as not to offend its brothers…

 

As the light faded. Shiny cold snowflakes fell o­n the horns and o­n the furs in wreaths of gemstones.It was cold and the tear tried to warm the freezing of the flakes…

 

It could not

It could not

A tiny tear…

 

They went.

 

The tigers began to lumber about in search of another refuge. Little creatures, in their thousands, fled in panic to the forest, trampling o­ne another... Snow fell and covered their tracks. The fallow deer lingered, and slowly gazed at the tear, seeking to bear its image with it in its wanderings. The fallow deer stumbled in the heavy snow. It sought to join its brothers, but didn't find them.

And the striped hyenas forgot the tear.

 

With slavering tongues they surrounded the fallow deer.They bit it and drank its blood to slake their thirst. When they ran off dripping blood, they sank their teeth into o­ne another because the thirst and hunger.

 

The dormouse too had not heard the cry of the fallow deer, because it was asleep covered over by its furry tail. o­nly its shoulders leapt convulsively at the cry in an ancient dance. The trees remained exposed, their leaves fallen and glazed in the forest.

 

The tear felt the hunger and the hyenas It was shaken by the reflections of the fleeing animals, of the cold doves and the drenched leaves.

Its gaping dumbness burst into the silence. It began to seethe and shattered into many tears, freezing into icicles! And the winds bore them to the edges of the forest. The weeping froze, and o­n the outstretched palm of the rock there remained the scatteredsprinklesof reflections, hues and floating fragments of expressions of faces.

 

With the first ray of the spring morning sun the forest began to weep for its tear. The icicles poured in jets which turned into rivulets, which streamed into streams...The rivulets swept away the sprinkles of the tear and the forest animals collected them with reverence and bore, o­ne by o­ne, sprays anddrops: some o­n his paw, some o­n his mane…- taking care not to harm the drop- and brought them to the rock hand temple…

 

Doves in the forest.Gurgling, cooing, and hovering over their mates.Their beaks peck at the bark of trunk and the barks flaunt the first shoots. The fox which bristled its tail before the vixen, fled from the blows of two deer who locked horns head to head. They had tender horns which had not yet become a tangled thicket.

 

The fallow deer licked at the grass and searched for acorns among the profusion of the leaves…

 

The tear twitched convulsively

Filled to overflowing

 

Reflected in it was the light

And the forest

The rustling

The o­ne within the other

 

Perhaps

There had been a tear?

 

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Dearest Dr. Semashko,

I am so sorry that I was delayed in answering your e.mail. I was out of town at my children's place and also several meetings.

I am deeply honored at your invitation. I am more than willing to contributeto Peace and Harmony efforts. It is so needed, especially in our region, where people have forgotten the sanctity of human life and the need of all people, of all nations in the area for education, professions, work places and a safe life and environment for their children. It is o­ne of the hardest tasks nowadays, especially with extreme religious brainwash o­n all sides, but it is a must. Human life is valuable, and people should have hope, peace and safety.

Be blessed sir, I willingly accept. I'm sending you my biography, and maybepoems against war.Just to see where I stand.

Have a happy and prosperous new year, you and your family and collegues. You are doing o­ne of the most important tasks of the century.

Yours

Hedva

Dr. Hedva r. Bachrach

December 19, 2010

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