Sloan-Kettering

Sloan-Kettering

by Abba Kovner
Sloan-Kettering

Sloan-Kettering

by Abba Kovner

Paperback(Reprint)

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Overview

In this luminous collection of poems, Abba Kovner records his deep engagement with life during his last days, as he lay dying of cancer in Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center. Kovner, the famed Jewish resistance fighter who led the Vilna ghetto uprising during World War II, was also a beloved master of Hebrew literature, and his work has seldom appeared in English. This translation brings us the fierce and humble gratitude of a visionary who has been a fighter not just for himself but for a whole people, as Kovner takes up his pen to say goodbye to a precious, if flawed, world.
 
Weaving together his perceptions of the present moment (“How little we need/to be happy: a half kilo increase in weight,/two circuits of the corridors”); his sorrow at leaving the world (his wife knitting at his bedside, the chatter of his grandsons); the dramatic loss of his vocal cords (“Have I no right to die/while still alive?”); and memories of his heroic comrades in the Baltic forest, Kovner emerges from these pages with yet another kind of heroism. His continual movement toward freedom and his desire to give a complete account of the gift of life, even as that life is failing, make his words stirring and unforgettable.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780805211450
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Publication date: 05/11/2004
Edition description: Reprint
Pages: 160
Product dimensions: 5.88(w) x 7.09(h) x 0.51(d)

About the Author

ABBA KOVNER (1918–1987) was born in Sebastopol, Russia, and was a leader in the Vilna ghetto uprising during World War II. After the war, he helped take European Jews into Palestine, where he settled with his wife. In 1970, he won the Israel Prize for Literature.

Read an Excerpt

I. INTRODUCTION


And like that the door opened without a click pushing aside the shifting straw curtain his shadow entered followed by the man with his mane of dark hair a young man with large eyes

At once they took their places at the head of his bed
(the shadow quietly folded itself away between the sink and the bedpans)
and with the stance of a Trappist-to-be he declared: "The time has come.
"My time has come?" he trembled.
"That's what I said," he added like a professional phantom.
"Where are we going, do you really know the way?"
"We are taking you there." He fell silent.
"Can I ask a question?"
"Too late."

(The swine!) "Let me take a towel,
some soap, a book?"
"Unnecessary. Anyone who enters comes out as he went in."

At once he turned to leave. As he went out,
trailing after him came his smell, his shadow and his dread.



II. THE CORRIDOR


He fell asleep under strange skies


He fell asleep under strange skies.
Vaulted windows the neo-renaissance style of New York Hospital. Outside the last thing his eyes took in clearly:
three chimneys a crematorium a red-tiled roof at the back
Rockefeller University,
the medical center,
a world of vanished routines,
your home and your rooms suddenly emptied of yesterday's light.

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