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Three Colors translated from the Hebrew by Seymour Mayne On Memorial Day I make my way up to the small military cemetery. In the northwestern corner we've placed a grey basalt rock and facing the southern corner -- a blanching chunk of chalk. And between under the loose sand our red loam spreads itself all around. And when the loudspeaker booms out the memorial prayer I close my eyes and see those three colors descend before me and disappear into the encroaching shadow of the stones.