June Friedman

AMONG THE SOUVENIRS   (a poem for Max)

 

When you are only seventeen

The words: "till death do you part"

Seem abstract and meaningless

You ignore the real concept of it

Not even imagining how swiftly

Life will pass before your eyes

Even after fifty years together

                                                              

Now for the first time ever                

I must face the New Year alone

Remembering all the others

Spent first with my parents                

And later with you                              

Although the years were not always

As we wished for                                

At least we 've had each other

                                                              

Now I have to face life alone

Without your love, common sense and help.

                                                              

You made so many things with your hands

All of them are still here                   

I see them every day,                          

They were made to make my life easier

Few of them still do                           

But most are useless to me now

Constantly surprising me                   

With their durability                           

While you are gone...                         

                                                              

There are times when the memory of you

Seems to be beyond my reach

On those days I try very hard to remember

Not being sure about anything anymore.

Was it all created in my imagination?

Then, all of a sudden                           

Your smile, joke or saying, reminds me

That we were here together               

Loving, laughing and trusting.

                                                              

 The fun would come often                

 Sometimes between tears                 

 But always wholehearted.                 

                                                              

 No, I don't want to believe that life was wasted

 Not for a minute                                

 Even when some days                        

 It all seems like a cruel joke.

 I would not change a thing                

 Not even for a pot of gold.               

                                                              

 And in the meantime I will remain here

 Among the souvenirs.                        

                                                           

  June Friedman --- New Year 1998


Max
of blessed memory and me in 1953, in Lod, Israel. We've been married for 6 years by then and this is our "wedding picture".

 

 

 

June Friedman:  Under Providential Guidance June Friedman: „POD OPIEKĄ OPATRZNOŚCI”

 

June Friedman:

 

June Friedman: My Life - in Passports | June Friedman: Paszporty i Moje Zycie...

 

June Friedman: Translation of Halina Birenbaum's Poems Book:  Sounds of a Guilty Silence 

 

 

 

Last updated September 14th, 2006

 

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