Yehuda Amichai

Like Our Bodies' Imprint

Like our bodies' imprint Not a sign will remain that we were in this place. The world closes behind us, The sand straightens itself. Dates are already in view In which you no longer exist, Already a wind blows clouds Which will not rain on us both. And your name is already in the passenger lists of ships, And in the registers of hotels, Whose names alone Deaden the heart. The three languages I know, All the colors in which I see and dream: None will help me.

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