My days take root in stones.
Growing causes so much pain.
But the blueness above them
is altogether more ethereal, purer.
As with slender, gnarled branches
which tarries a while and is gone
they would weave a heaven
over me, and over my silence.
— Anna Margolin, “My days Take Root in Stones,” Drunk from the Bitter Truth: The Poems of Anna Margolin. (State University of New York Press September 15, 2005) Translated from the original Yiddish by Shirley Kumove.