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The Lost Son translated from the Hebrew by Marzell Kay So he came back, back like a stranger And when he came back he looked around him and could not Remember, for all to him was unfamiliar now: The house, the yard, the narrow path. Their memory cut off within his heart, Cut out and he, survived, reprieved, was now the one Who came; he who, still there, had sworn Though he be made a stranger, he would not forget: A footpath in the sand, the unploughed field, the trench That marked the boundry, the lemon tree, its bitter fruit. He felt his absence as if preordained: Eventually to return, come back a stranger, A darkness memory that would not depart, A skein unravelling, unravelled, of longings, warm Now, which would never be respun.
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