Tamy Ben Tor and Miki Carmi

Hans


March 6th - May 2020

 

In the beginning there was

a mother and her two sons.

Her first born was named Izaak,

because she laughed at his round face and his hooked nose.

The young one was named Ishmael,

for he heard her laughter and cried. She pitied him. He who pities the cruel shall end up being cruel to the pitiful.

When the first born became

thirteen the angel of death came to her. Which one will you give me?

Take the one who turns away

from me to see the sun setting in its beauty. If that is Ishmael, then take Izaak. The funny one should learn to cry.

And so he took Izaak and planted

him in his garden among pillars of fire and smoke.

And Izaak rose from the pillars

of smoke. Flesh and blood he rose. And became an important man. 

Angrily he scolded the angel

of death; 

You have uprooted me from

my homeland from my mother and brother.

T’was god’s will, said the

angel of death.

I know no god but you, said 

Izaak.

The angel of death took a

liking to Izaak, he called him “My Son” and sent him off to be his messenger on earth.

Izaak dressed as a poor man.

He wore an old coat. He pretended to be a beggar.

But his pockets were full.

He knocked on his mother’s

door.

Have mercy good woman. Take

me into your home and bosom.

He danced before her, she

heard the coins clinking in his pockets. She cried with joy for he resembled her long lost son.

She took him in and called

him “my little pig”.

Because his filthy garments

made her laugh.

Forty years they lived happily

from his pocket.

He would throw a coin on her

bed every night, she woke up and thought it was god himself repaying her for her righteousness and hospitality with gold coins.

And she loved her little pig

for the riches he brought her and for his nightly wild dances which made her laugh.

Forty years went by

The mother woke up one morning

and found no golden coin on her bed. So she screamed and she hollered:

It is an outrage that I should

be hosting and feeding a perfect stranger for forty years out of the kindness of my heart and the broadness of my mind and I am not repaid. And no one acknowledges my good deeds. And no one rewards me. And no one sends me flowers.

And my name isn't mentioned

in any books. I am a talented woman. I could have made something of myself if I was not tied to this man's pocket.

Ishmael the brother took a

knife and came to stab Izaak, but the angel of death flipped the knife so that Ishmael would stab his own eyes. And so Ishmael became blind and a self righteous poet.

And the little pig said:

So shall be done to the man

who cried at my mother's laughter. It is I who laugh now at the sound of his weeping.

And to his mother he said:

Now take off your clothes

and dance before us. It is my turn to laugh.

You who abandoned your son

shall now abandon your pride, and you shall be before me as Izaak was before his mother.

He took off his old garments

and said:

I am Izaak, the long lost

son. Victimized by his mother and brother.

I shall now have my revenge.

I shall live among you, lay

in your bed, dine at your table. and you will know that I am different. From another world. And filthy. I will not bathe , I will not disguise myself and you shall endure my stench and my existence.

You shall marry your offspring

to mine, your daughters to my sons till my blood assimilates with yours and they become one.

Amen they said. For it was

the angel of death who spoke, and they knew that very well.

 

New generations came and knew

nothing. And cared about nothing. Words flew in and out of their minds and they saw nothing but scattered shapes and signs.

They became talkers and liars

and the land was chaos.