Silk Lace and High Heel Private Collection of a Poet

Once I had a website

Which I loved so much

Www.shulisapir.com

And even though only a handful of people would visit there Each week,

I would still go there

Every now and then

Sipping my coffee

Flipping through its pages

Going over so much of my life.

Memories

Stories from my parents’ home

Pictures and souvenirs

From all over the world

Books and poems I wrote

Publications

Articles

Reviews

And so many precious words of thanks

Written to me

By so, many friends.

Poetry in Hebrew, English, Greek, Spanish, French, Arabic

Everything in bloom!

Until one day when I was told:

״Your website

Is not innovative enough

Not technological enough

Not attractive enough

It is outdated and passe

And costs a lot of money to maintain.

Today everything is clever

And digital

You need a site

Worthy of your poetry.

A modern-looking site, one with all the Innovations. ״

But I’m a nostalgic person

And romantic too

And that is where I want to stay

I am not excited at all

By innovations and

All the other Gadgets.

The day arrived

And my site’s fate was decided.

It was about to vanish

And in a moment become

invisible history.

I hurried to take a picture

Of every page on the site

I shed a tear here

And another tear there

I said goodbye with a heavy heart

Leaving my spiritual home.

״Be happy, they told me

You leave an old house

And move to a new one

You will have

An attractive website within a year

A very modern one

So smart

That you will

Fall in love with it.

My dear friends and guests

I invite everyone who loves

Nostalgia and romance

And the taste of ‘once upon a time’

To visit my website’s books on Ourboox

And if you like

I’ll be happy if you write me

A word.

Talking to Paul

Twenty years from now

I’d like to see you again

Wrapped in black robes

While the moist part

Of the heart

Turns to stone

And on it lies a heavy cross

Instead of a woman.

.

Father Paul

Father Paul
We all sin,
We have all wandered off the path
And lost God, each of us at our own pace.
Look what is going on in the world everything is
Falling to pieces – Chaos

Father Paul, you are his worldly representative
You and my Rabbi
So where is he now
Now that Genesis is heading towards Armageddon
And my country is bleeding?
I still light candles every Friday evening and Pray
Tell me, Father Paul, could you spare us some God
Until we are back on our feet?

Only a woman

Suzan shows me her poetry book

Decorated with Arabic letters

She reads me a love poem and translates it,

Although, love is the only language

That does not need translation.

It is enough to look at her eyes

To hear her excited voice

To see a small movement

of her hands.

When I will sit with Suzan On the Carmel

We will see beads of tears Divers silent as fish

Until the purple heart flowers rise

And as much as their blossom is beautiful, it is painful

And doesn’t have an answer

Only a woman, only a woman will understand.

* From the book:  Reading in Coffee

 Shulamit Sapir-Nevo 🔸Suzan Sidawi Devini

Translations: Menashe Sapir

Tzivonim Publishing.

* The book received a Creativity Award from the Association for Encouragement of Research, Literature and Art « Achi »

Link to article

My poems are on Israeli wine bottles in Brazil!❤️🍷📝

What an excitement!

To get one-day photos of selected Israeli wine bottles with my wine poems attached to them and they are in Brazil, the land of the Bossa Nova, the land of Antonio Carlos Jobim, Jorge Amado, and Pele.

Dear Sandra Serruya, thank you so much for translating my poems to Portuguese and choosing them to represent our beautiful country in Brazil, on hundreds of Israeli Boutique wines, that are exported by your company MADORRA .🌹

Wine and love poems always go together.

April moon

‏There is a full moon

‏A full glass of wine

‏And a foolish heart

‏Tell me a fairy tale tonight.

*

A LUA DE ABRIL

Sob a lua de abril,

Nesta noite,

Com um copo cheio de vinho,

E o coração assim vagabundo,

Me conta uma estória…

Poesias de Shulamit Sapir Nevo

Tradução Hebraico-Português Sandra Serruya

Dionysus

It’s after midnight

Give me sweet, bitter, or dry

All the wine that you have

Play with me in the dark

Play with me fire

Do not worry, my head is not here

My heart is asleep

I am yours for good and for bad

Put a mask on my face

Tie my eyes

Take my hands, my lips

My night

Let’s forget the loneliness, the pain

Let’s erase the tears

from the words

And play.

DIONISIOS

Vem!

Depois da meia-noite,

Me oferece dôce, amargo ou sêco,

Todo o vinho que você tiver.

Brinca comigo no escuro,

Vamos brincar com fogo.

Fique tranquilo!

Estou desguardada.

Meu coração dorme.

Serei sua, para o bem,

E para o mal.

Poesias de Shulamit Sapir Nevo

Tradução Hebraico-Português Sandra Serruya

Each time

Each time

When he shows up

With a glass of wine in his hand

And two sleepless nights

I am again in love

He undresses

My heart

in the dark

And sweeps me away

With his full moon

Light

SEMPRE

Sempre que Ele chega,

Assim de repente,

O copo de vinho nas mãos,

Duas noites de sedução.

Apaixonada vou segredar,

Enquanto na escuridão,

Ele despe o meu coração

E me leva a ver a luz.

Poesias de Shulamit Sapir Nevo

Tradução Hebraico-Português Sandra Serruy

Dance with me

Dance

with me tonight

Like that evening

When full moon

Spread its light

Over us

And you poured me

Wine of promises

Until I saw

The stars

DANCE COMIGO

Dance comigo esta noite!

Como naquela noite

De lua cheia,

Que caiu sobre nós.

Você me serviu,

Do vinho da promessa,

Até que eu vi as estrelas.

The golden strings

I am pulling out

The golden strings

That the sun spreads

Over the Aegean sea

Before traveling

To another sea

Soon

The wine of the night

Will come to delete

Whatever sanity

We have left

Let’s pretend that

You are Poseidon

And I got lost following you

DAQUI HÁ POUCO

Coleciono as marcas douradas

Que o sol espalha sobre o Mar Vermelho,

Antes de se pôr e seguir seu caminhos para outros mares.

Daqui há pouco, chegará o vinho da noite

A embriagar o pouco da razão que me restou sã.

Vamos fazer de conta,

Que você é o meu Cavaleiro sobre o cavalo branco

E eu seguirei perdida atrás de você.

‏Maybe this Spring

‏Maybe this summer

‏ The sun will light

‏The face of the world.

‏ Maybe this winter

‏ The rain will wash away

‏ The traces of the fire.

‏ Maybe this fall

‏ We will throw away hate.

‏ Maybe next spring

‏ We will learn to love

‏ Peace.

• Shulamit Sapir Nevo

• The poem was broadcast on the international radio, by the organization, “We Unite the World with Poetry״, in their anthology

  ” A Cry for Peace”

🕊Jerusalem’s gates

‎‏The sun wraps Jerusalem

‎‏In scarves of lights

‎‏The city will open her eight gates

‎‏The Flowers’ Gate

‎‏The Lions’ Gate

‎‏The Jaffa gate

‎‏The Damascus Gate

‎‏The Zion Gate

‎‏The Dung Gate

‎‏The Mercy Gate.

‎‏

‎‏Soon,

‎‏The prayer for peace will open

‎‏The New Gate

‎‏And enter with a white dove

‎‏Bearing an olive branch.

• The poem was broadcast on the international radio, by the organization, “We Unite the World with Poetry״, in their anthology ” A Cry for Peace”

Tashlich / Throw away

I ask my heart,

​Throw away​

The clouds, the tears,

The painful words

​Throw away

The anger, the wounds

Memories that you don’t want

The sights that break

Your heart.

​Leave behind

The falling leaves

​And like the trees,​

Anticipate

​The seasons that await.

* Tashlich comes from the Hebrew word meaning “to cast,” – to cast away our bad things, and throw them to the river/ sea. This ancient Jewish custom is done in the beginning of the new Jewish year.

He plays Carlos Jobim

Once again

He plays Carlos Jobim

And the sounds

Pass by

like palm trees,

Touched by the wind

Pictures blowing on

The white walls

Of the house

As we celebrate the

Blessed Holiday of the Music

And I’m a winter bird

Standing in the

Window of

A faraway summer

Collecting gold

From the temple of the

Bossa Nova.

Only a woman 🥀

Suzanne shows me her poetry book,

Adorned with letters in Arabic,

She translates a love poem.

And while love is

The language that needs no translation,

I can tell from her eyes,

From the lilt in her voice,

From the cadence of her hands.

And when I sit with her on Mount Carmel,

Watching the tears

Dive like silent fish

Until they blossom into

Flowers of the heart,

Painful in their beauty,

And there is no answer

That, only a woman

Can fathom.

(C) Shulamit Sapir-Nevo

Translated by Mel Rosenberg

• The poem was broadcast in Hebrew, English, and Spanish, on the radio, by the international organization, “We Unite the World with Poetry״ leading by ‏Felipe de Jesύs A. Hernάndez, in honor of “International Women’s Day”

🥀

There

Where you don’t touch

There

Where you don’t see

There

Where you leave

My silence

Speechless

You hurt me.

• The poem was broadcast in Hebrew, English, and Spanish, on the radio, by the international organization, “We Unite the World with Poetry״ leading by ‏Felipe de Jesύs A. Hernάndez,

Mom

Mom,

You are the first hands

And the most loving hands

That taught me

About love.

How will you take care of me, now

Mom,

From strangers

From wolves on the road

From the fire

From a bad dream?

How will you erase with a kiss

A wound that I got

Reconcile my tears

And my heart

Tell me a fairy tale

And hug me

Until I’m safe?

And how will you take care of me,

From myself

Mom?

* Captain, Felipe de Jesus A Hernandez, and Collaborators

It is a great honor for me to take part in your broadcasted program, together with poets from 115 countries, for World Mother’s Day,  produced by your organization: “We Unite The World With Poetry”

‏Tell me about the foxes

‏Tell me

‏How the foxes find their way

Through the vineyard,

‏After all

‏There are no signposts

‏And their tongues are long and Pink and slippery

‏While they long for wine

‏‪At midnight.

‏Tell me

‏That they haven’t had

‏Their fill of curling up

‏Among the soft vines

‏And in their red eyes

‏The devious moon runs wild

‏Tell me

‏Will they be back tomorrow

‏To celebrate

‏Once again.

Embrace

War is at the doorstep

So I’m told

But I keep sweeping it away,

Casting a spell

To drive it far

From the castle.

Embrace me

I have padlocked the gate

Love sentries stand guard.

The angels know

That where there is love

One dare not fire.

(C) Shulamit Sapir-Nevo

Translated by Mel Rosenberg

From the book “Doves of Latrun”

The Hebrew version of this book is also available and you’re welcome to have a look!

More of my poetry and books in ENGLISH are here in this catalog:

Thank you very much for reading my books!🌹

You are welcome to visit my new website 

www.shulisapir.com

Thank you very much for your visit !🌷😊

🦋🐦‍⬛🌹🌻🌺🪻🏵️🌸