耶胡达·阿米亥（Yehuda Amichai, 1924-2000）以希伯来语写诗，被认为是以色列最优秀的诗人。他出生于德国一个正统犹太教家庭，说希伯来语和德语，也有一个德语的名字叫做Ludwig Pfeuffer，在1936年十二岁时全家越发感到希特勒的威胁，逃亡，落脚巴勒斯坦。二战时志愿加入英军作战。之后在第一次第二次中东战争以及斋月战争中他都上过前线。1970年代起他在美国多所大学任教。
《炸弹的直径》
炸弹直径三十厘米，
有效射程约七米，
造成四人死亡，十一人受伤。
而围着它们，在一个更大的
痛苦和时间的圆圈内，散落着两家医院
和一座墓园。但那位年轻女人，
被埋葬在她出生地城市，
距离这里不下一百公里，
将那圆圈显著扩展；
一个孤独的男人，
在大海彼岸一个遥远国度的岸上
哀悼她的死亡，将整个世界纳入那个圆圈。
而我甚至没提孤儿的哭声，
它们传到上帝的宝座上，甚至
更远，形成了一个没有尽头、没有上帝的圆圈。
The Diameter of the Bomb
The diameter
of the bomb was thirtycentimeters
and the diameter of its effective range about seven meters,
with four dead and eleven wounded.
And around these, in a larger circle
of pain and time, two hospitals are scattered
and one graveyard. But the young woman
who was buried in the city she came from,
at a distance of more than a hundred kilometers,
enlarges the circle considerably,
and the solitary man mourning her death
at the distant shores of a country far across the sea
includes the entire world in the circle.
And I won’t even mention the crying of orphans
that reaches up to the throne of God and
beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.
《四首关于战争与和平的诗》
1
我家不远处的小公园里，
有一块大理石匾额，刻着阵亡士兵的名字，
一行接一行整整齐齐、
字迹端正，就像一栋空荡荡的大楼门口
住户的名字。
2
我想起那个红发男人，
他死在这里，还有他嘶哑的妻子。
我想起那男人嘶哑的妻子，
她多年前也在这儿死去。
我还想到，那个嘶哑的妻子
现在是一个沉默的妻子。
真正的流产
是那些在战斗中倒下的人：
对此
无人抗议。
3
有一次，一颗炸弹
在肉铺旁爆炸：
屠宰下的肉
又被一次次屠杀，
但是不再有痛苦，
也几乎没有血。
4
我是一名和平种族主义者：
蓝眼睛的是凶手，
黑眼睛的是杀手，
卷发的是破坏者，
直发的是爆破手，
棕皮肤的撕我的肉，
粉皮肤的流我的血。
只有无色的人，
只有透明的人是好人，
他们让我晚上入睡而不怀恐惧，
并透过他们看到
天空。
Four Poems on War and Peace
1
In a little park, not far from my house,
there’s a marble plaque and on it the names of dead soldiers
written one beneath the next in neat order
and in clear letters, like the names of tenants at the entrance
of a large and empty building.
2
I think of the red-headed man
who died here, and his hoarse wife.
I think of the hoarse wife
of the man who died here years ago.
And I think of the hoarse wife
who is now a silent wife.
The real abortion is
of those who fall in battle:
against it
no one protests.
3
Once a bomb exploded
by the butcher shop:
the slaughtered meat
was slaughtered again and again,
but there’s no pain anymore
and almost no blood.
4
I am a peace racist:
the blue-eyed are murderers,
the black-eyed are killers,
the curly-haired are destroyers,
the straight-haired are bombers,
the brown-skinned tear my flesh,
the pink-skinned shed my blood.
Only the colorless ones,
only the transparent ones are good,
who allow me to sleep at night without terror
and through them to see
the sky.
