And when you sit this way by the
and its gold plays over your inclined
the light drizzles through your fingers,
and in the mirror of your black silk
the flame’s splendour dances.
Apples on your table glow in the
a wealth of golden grapes overflows
and blessing gives off its ripe scent.
The forest thunders and roars
and sweet is its song
from within the stillness
of your precious corner.
– Avraham Ben Yitzhak. excerpt from I Scarcely Knew Myself
translated by Robert Alter