Emigrants
Published in Issue #12 Translated from Hebrew by Stephen Katz subscribe to unlock the full storyThe sleep of a healthy man is like a peaceful journey on the seas, a voyage on night wings into morning and the sun. People who remain awake at night may be likened to those standing still while the ones asleep are on the move. Behold! The second hour past midnight sounds, the hardest road of deep sleep, a recompense for the hardships of the day, is already behind us. The chest heaves as it slowly draws in air, pleasurably sighing deeply as one continues the journey among the dense forests of dreamland and foggy-blue thickets of vision in the kingdom of shadow and night.
A double journey was the sleep of the passengers of the enormous ship “Palmyra” that made its way to the shores of North America on a chilly and quiet November night. The skies were the hue of black velvet, their edges pale as if the waves lapped up the blackness of the sky’s skirts all around. The mighty giant beneath guarded within its waters for safekeeping all the secrets of the mighty ones above. But — who knows? — could the more mysterious puzzle be, perhaps, that iron leviathan, it and all its contents, that slipped in smoky sighs and vapor through its bosom? Like a tower enchanted by the magical designs of the prince of sleep, it plowed its brow through the surface of the waters. The passengers and their children were asleep in their cabins, their fists held tight. Also asleep were the dogs that the old Irish man brought...
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