A glimpse to my books














First and foremost, let us begin

By stating that the red banana kingdom was ruled by king Brin.

Wild bananas grew in orange, green and yellow,

In brown and even ocean blue, deep and mellow.

But Brin’s kingdom was renowned in the jungle far and wide

For the red bananas that grew in the north and along the eastern side.

And so I will commence, but please keep in mind

That the red banana grove was the most important of its kind.

There it was, so close to the eastward entry.

Oh yes! The holy grove! Well-guarded by king Brin’s loyal primate sentry.

By the monkeys of the jungle he was exceedingly admired.

To populate his kingdom all types and sorts of primates aspired.

Held in great esteem by monkeys a great distance from his realm,

They would occasionally visit the blessed land that held him at the helm.

Forms have to be completed before entry is granted

For a brief glorious hour, to view the wonder and be enchanted.

A remarkable wonder, a masterpiece, a sign no doubt,

The very spot where the first red banana in the jungle began to sprout!

Much has been said, and will be said, of the singular nature of this dominion.

The stamping ground makes fine peat, the green shoots flourish, branching out,

Perfectly  intertwined, the very best for climbing, in everyone’s opinion.

Yet distant is the day when throughout the kingdom a black cloud shall spread,

Transforming waterholes filled to the brim into mired bogs, muddy and dead.

Abundant superlatives praise the monkeys’ equanimity,

With a salute they acknowledge their persona’s sublimity.

Rest assured! Far and wide this fact is known and well construed,

Rare is the day when pique and fury will blacken their mood.

There was no indication of what lay in store,

What that week would transpire, changing eternity as never before.



She now seemed to me so delicate and fragile.

In a moment she will turn towards the door. Just a few seconds more and I can stop pretending. I can hardly control myself, I clutch myself so as not to freak out. Another moment and I will run after her to the narrow corridor, painted in shades of antique beige, heading towards the archaic elevator with the grilled sliding door that reminds me of films from the fifties, with the curved staircases in the background, I will run and smash the elevator door into a thousand pieces.

I shot a last glance at the open window. The white curtain that nearly swept the floor danced to the music of the breeze coming from the Bay of Mexico, swaying like a belly dancer’s hips, with packed suitcases standing on the floor nearby. One last embrace, holding on to each other very tightly. When our foreheads touched I could feel my hands shaking just from the thought that this may be the last time I am holding her.

We kept gazing into each other’s eyes, unable to disconnect. From the corner of my eye I clearly noticed how her mouth was slightly open, as if trying to say something. In just a minute she will say, “I want you to stay here with me. Please, don’t go!” But she didn’t say a thing.

“God, I don’t want to hurt you”, I begged in silence, “say something already!”, but she just kept on breathing heavily. Again and again I tried to say what I was holding on to so strongly inside me, but something kept blocking my words. As if my will and my ability had split into two separate and totally independent entities. Or perhaps it was the mounds of pessimism and the fear of disappointment that did such a good job of burying any expressions of feeling.

“What? What is it, baby?” she asked, her voice thickening as if she were about to cry. I glanced down at the floor and drew a deep breath. I wanted to tell her that I love her, that I would do anything in the world to stay here with her, if only I could! But, even more so, I was struggling with myself not to cry.

“I don’t want to leave you”, I finally whispered in Hebrew so she wouldn’t understand, while still gazing at the floor, and my hands uncontrollably and painfully clutching her arms.

“What are you saying?” she asked in a broken voice, her eyes darting from side to side in an attempt to focus on my pupils.

“Please! Tell me.” A tear drizzled down her cheek, and my eyes teared as well.

I looked at her once again and turned my head away. I breathed heavily, pulled lightly at my nose and pressed my lips more tightly together.

“I love you, baby”, she was killing me. “I love you.”








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