Cain, Son of Adam

You Can’t Go Home Again

Friends,

In yesterday’s column we returned to Cain, with whom our chapter began. I mostly try to have these columns written in advance so I can be sure they’ll be ready in time. But today, May 6^th, is Israel’s Holocaust Memorial Day, and at a ceremony I attended this morning the following poem was handed out. I have known it for many years and it always moves me — and since it features Cain, I thought it might be appropriate to share with you today.

For more on the poet, Dan Pagis, follow this link. He was born in Radauti, Romania, the hometown of my stepmother’s father (perhaps my first Hebrew teacher), but lived most of his life as a poet and professor in Israel. Apologies that Substack does not make better formatting possible. The translation is my own; you can find another translation and more on the poem at this link.

כָּתוּב בְּעִפָּרוֹן בַּקָּרוֹן הֶחָתוּם 

Written in Pencil in the Sealed Railway Car

מאת דן פגיס by Dan Pagis

כָּאן בַּמִּשְׁלוֹחַ הַזֶּה Here on this transport
אֲנִי חַוָּה am I, Eve
 עִם הֶבֶל בְּנִי with my son Abel
 אִם תִּרְאוּ אֶת בְּנִי הַגָּדוֹל If you see my older son
קַיִן בֶּן אָדָם Cain son of Adam
תַּגִּידוּ לוֹ שֶׁאֲנִי Tell him that I

תש"ל 1970

We’ll go back to reading Genesis tomorrow.