Kadya Molodowsky

White night

White night, my joy and grief,
You’re brighter than the brightest dawn.
A white ship sails an East Broadway,
Although I can’t see its sail by day.

A silent star hands me a ticket
Good for passage on every ocean.
I’m going to wear my oldest jacket
And surrender to the faithful night.

My ship, where are you leading me?
Who is the pilot of my journey?
I can’t read your map of hieroglyphs
Or the meaning of your instrument. 

I’m one who sees and doesn’t see,
I travel in your secret’s wake.
Pack my trunk with the wreath of sorrow
From all my lost, uprooted homes.

Pack up all my scorched-out pots,
Their cracked lids, crumpled, crumpled,
Pack up my chaos with its golden buttons
Because chaos is stylish forever.

Pack up the letters with their missing addresses.
They scald my eyes with icy fear.
They’ve lasted past years, past days and nights,
Sucked deep into my brain and bone.

Pack up my shadow, heavier than flesh,
That follows, follows me endlessly.
Holiday or weekday, blooming or fading,
My shadow comes and whispers its tales.

Lead me to a land of honey cakes
Where cherubs and children nibble the sweets.
That’s worth more to me than anything,
There where the old wine sparkles in bottles.


Give me a sip here on East Broadway
To honour the Jews crying at midnight.
I’m a heretic, but I weep with them,
Feeling the same sadness and guilt.

I’m a heavy passenger, my ship – 
Packed with laments and wailing shofars.
Tie up night’s sails as tight as you can
Because the day can’t carry me.

Lead me to a land of tranquillity
Where goats wear caps and play trombones,
To the white bedsheets of the Blessed One,
Where the dangerous hunter can’t shadow me.

Lead me, yes, lead me – you know best
Where the blue ocean of peace now lies.
I am wearier that you tallest mast,
Somewhere I’ve flung my heart away.