My Father

Yehuda Amichai

The memory of my father is wrapped up in
white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work.

Just as a magician takes towers and rabbits
out of his hat, he drew love from his small body,

and the rivers of his hands
overflowed with good deeds.

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• Yehuda Amichai : Temporary Poem Of My Time
• Yehuda Amichai : The First Rain
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Previous 10 Poems

• Yehuda Amichai : My Child Wafts Peace
• Yehuda Amichai : Memorial Day For The War Dead
• Yehuda Amichai : Love Of Jerusalem
• Yehuda Amichai : Jerusalem
• Yehuda Amichai : If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem
• Yehuda Amichai : I Want To Die In My Own Bed
• Yehuda Amichai : I Know A Man
• Yehuda Amichai : I Have Become Very Hairy
• Yehuda Amichai : I Don't Know If History Repeats Itself
• Yehuda Amichai : Half The People In The World