At festival displaced by war, poets reflect on post-Oct. 7 work
A session of mostly religious wordsmiths examines difficulty of making sense of this year’s events
Jessica Steinberg, The Times of Israel's culture and lifestyles editor, covers the Sabra scene from south to north and back to the center
On day two of the three-day Metula Poetry Festival, the annual event took a closer look at the role of religion in works that have emerged this year.
The festival (August 28-30) relocated to Jerusalem this year because of the security situation in Israel’s north. On Thursday morning, poets Elhanan Nir, Bacol Serlui, Sivan Har-Shefi and Israel Neta, sat together on the small stage of the Confederation House auditorium for a session moderated by Meron Isaacson, a fellow poet and author.
They spoke to a primarily secular audience about how they had coped with the period since Hamas’s October 7 attacks.
“On Simhat Torah, I did what my mother does, which is to sit in my robe and recite Psalms,” said Serlui, who teaches literature at a religious high school and poetry writing at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. “The ancient texts of weekday prayers and high holidays — that’s where I am this year, especially at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. when I’m not sleeping, and I haven’t been sleeping a lot this year.”
Har-Shefi, a Prime Minister Prize laureate and lecturer, commented that she couldn’t write anything new until as recently as a month ago.
“As in Jewish mourning, where we cover our mirrors, I couldn’t really write this year,” said Har-Shefi. “I reminded myself that we’re part of something bigger than we are, and yet we each have a role in this thing that is happening.”
Serlui read “Names,” her poem written on October 19, 2023, about the God of each kibbutz in the south, while Har-Shefi presented a poem she wrote about Israel’s 2005 pullout of Israeli settlements from the Gaza Strip, about the pain of saying goodbye to one’s home.
From “Names,” translated from Hebrew by Linda Zisquit, Helit Yeshurun and Lilach Lachman:
G-d of Ofakim, G-d of Be’eri, G-d of Zikim, G-d of Holit, G-d of Yachini, G-d of Israel,
G-d of Kfar Aza, G-d of Kisufim, G-d of Kerem Shalom, G-d of Magen, G-d of Mefalsim,
G-d of Nachal Oz, G-d of Nirim, G-d of Nir Oz, G-d of Nir Yitzchak, G-d of Nir Am, G-d of Netiv Ha’asarah, G-d of Netivot, G-d of Sderot, G-d of Sufa, G-d of Sa’ad, G-d of Ein Habesor,
G-d of Ein Hashlosha, G-d of Alumim, G-d of Pri Gan, G-d of Re’im,
G-d of the Holy Sabbath, G-d of innocence irretrievable,
G-d of eyes won’t be shut, G-d of the dead children,
G-d of the burnt houses, G-d
In affliction and in captivity
The fourth poet on stage, Yisrael Neta, is not religiously observant, and hails from Kibbutz Be’eri, one of the worst-hit communities on October 7, though he himself was not home on the day of the attacks.
“I wasn’t there, but I’m in the eye of the storm,” said Neta, who read from one of his earlier works. “I’m still in the disaster, but can’t write about it yet. Maybe in another 20 years.”
The fourth poet, Nir, is a rabbi who stirred up Israel’s religious camp with his post-October 7 work, “We Need a New Torah,” the poem that lent its name to the Thursday morning session.
Nir told of the thought process that led him to write the poem, not long after October 7, as he glanced at his bookshelves and realized there are no books written yet that refer to the tragedies and devastation that took place.
“There was no softcover book, no hardcover book, that could speak of this,” he said. “Every period of Jewish history allowed for a new kind of Torah, after the Spanish Inquisition, after Hasidism, World War I and World War II. We need new songs and movies to make sense of it all.”
The audience clapped in approval of Nir’s words.
It’s also a time to “share power and strength,” said Nir, likening the current period in Israel to a relay race, in which Israelis need to share their hope and strength, “kind of like kids’ trading cards.”
“You have some hope, so share it with me and I take it with me,” said Nir, “and I’ll give you hope when I have some.”
The Metula Poetry Festival runs through Friday, August 30 at Jerusalem’s Confederation House.