Yonatan Berg's guest appearances

Yonatan Berg

Israel in Translation

The Transatlantic Poetry Pondcast

Partenariat KAN ISRAEL &#8211; Emmanuelle Adda

Kan en Français

The Other Pages

Akadem - Le magazine

Ilana Kurshan

Amos Oz

Michael Kramer

Naomi Shihab Nye

Denise Levertov

Robert Alter

Etgar Keret

Richard Blanco

Tishani Doshi

David Grossman

Anna Akhmatova

Alex Epstein

Jane Hirshfield

Rita Dove

Ted Kooser

OwlTail

Welcome to National Poetry Month at The Other Pages. My name is Steve Spanoudis and I have been curating the series with help and contributions this year from Kashiana Singh and (Nelson) Howard Miller. I’m coming to you from Coral Springs, Florida, on the eastern edge of the Everglades. Technically, National Poetry Month is over, but we didn’t quite get to thirty, so I thought I would squeeze a few more in. Today’s poem is by Yonatan Berg, an Israeli poet I was not familiar with until I ran across an article in Lunch Ticket (https://lunchticket.org/two-poems/ - the second poem on the page) with two of his poems translated from Hebrew to English by Joanna Chen. If you go to the page, I ask you to read the translator’s notes at the bottom. They are brief, and very good. I included this poem purposely after yesterday’s, You Are Your Own State Department, by Naomi Shihab Nye, and while their families hail from different sides of the tracks, so to speak, in the Israeli / Palestinian situation, their views have very much in common. This is an important thing for Americans in particular to understand, in an era when opportunists are still pitting one half of the country against the other, creating and inflaming tensions, instead of pushing for Unity, which is the title of today’s poem. Nye, with the perspective of a longer life, talks of incremental change - small acts of kindness for those who suffer. Berg is not as concrete, in fact he is entirely mystical. Unlike Nye, he does not offer up any way to change the reality we are in physically. Instead he describes us as common souls, sharing a journey through darkness. And the recognition of that shared experience is his call for unity. I think that Joanna Chen’s translation is excellent. As a separate point, I would like to say that yesterday’s poem reminds me of my good friend Hani Silwani, originally from Jerusalem. Today’s reminds me of another good friend, one who has lived through many dark journeys, Yair Alon from Holon, Israel, whose ambulance-driving was, in part, inspiration for one of my own stories, Tethered to the Sky. Berg begins with: We travel the silk road of evening, tobacco and desire flickering between our hands. We are warm travelers, our eyes unfurled, traveling in psalms, in Rumi, in the sayings of the man from the Galilee. I would like you to note the phrase “our eyes unfurled,” suggesting they open, uncovered and uncloaked, to see and experience everything. There are religious and cultural references of all types, open and agnostic, following the metaphor of the open eyes. Later in the poem: (The full text of the article is available at The Other Pages on Facebook or Tumblr.)

Welcome to National Poetry Month at The Other Pages. My name is Steve Spanoudis and I have been curating the series with help and contributions this year from Kashiana Singh and (Nelson) Howard Miller. I’m coming to you from Coral Springs, Florida, on the eastern edge of the Everglades. Technically, National Poetry Month is over, but we didn’t quite get to thirty, so I thought I would squeeze a few more in. Today’s poem is by Yonatan Berg, an Israeli poet I was not familiar with until I ran across an article in Lunch Ticket (<a href="https://lunchticket.org/two-poems/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://lunchticket.org/two-poems/</a> - the second poem on the page) with two of his poems translated from Hebrew to English by Joanna Chen. If you go to the page, I ask you to read the translator’s notes at the bottom. They are brief, and very good. I included this poem purposely after yesterday’s, You Are Your Own State Department, by Naomi Shihab Nye, and while their families hail from different sides of the tracks, so to speak, in the Israeli / Palestinian situation, their views have very much in common. This is an important thing for Americans in particular to understand, in an era when opportunists are still pitting one half of the country against the other, creating and inflaming tensions, instead of pushing for Unity, which is the title of today’s poem. Nye, with the perspective of a longer life, talks of incremental change - small acts of kindness for those who suffer. Berg is not as concrete, in fact he is entirely mystical. Unlike Nye, he does not offer up any way to change the reality we are in physically. Instead he describes us as common souls, sharing a journey through darkness. And the recognition of that shared experience is his call for unity. I think that Joanna Chen’s translation is excellent. As a separate point, I would like to say that yesterday’s poem reminds me of my good friend Hani Silwani, originally from Jerusalem. Today’s reminds me of another good friend, one who has lived through many dark journeys, Yair Alon from Holon, Israel, whose ambulance-driving was, in part, inspiration for one of my own stories, Tethered to the Sky. Berg begins with: We travel the silk road of evening, tobacco and desire flickering between our hands. We are warm travelers, our eyes unfurled, traveling in psalms, in Rumi, in the sayings of the man from the Galilee. I would like you to note the phrase “our eyes unfurled,” suggesting they open, uncovered and uncloaked, to see and experience everything. There are religious and cultural references of all types, open and agnostic, following the metaphor of the open eyes. Later in the poem: (The full text of the article is available at The Other Pages on <a href="https://facebook.com/theotherpages" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Facebook </a>or <a href="https://theotherpages.tumblr.com/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Tumblr</a>.)

2021 NPM 29 Yonatan Berg

Après avoir grandi et avoir été élevé dans une implantation de Judée Samarie, Yonatan Berg s'éloigne de cette ''bulle'' pour aller étudier à l'Université de Tel Aviv. La distance lui permet d'avoir un regard neuf sur le monde dans lequel il a grandit et de pouvoir le critiquer. Mais il doit  aussi se justifier de venir des ''territoires'' auprès des étudiants politisés de son université. Une position pas facile .Agnès Bensimon, notre critique littéraire nous présente le second livre de Yonathan Berg  traduit et publié chez l'Antilope.Au micro d'Emmanuelle Adda.

Après avoir grandi et avoir été élevé dans une implantation de Judée Samarie, Yonatan Berg s'éloigne de cette ''bulle'' pour aller étudier à l'Université de Tel Aviv. La distance lui permet d'avoir un regard neuf sur le monde dans lequel il a grandit et de pouvoir le critiquer. Mais il doit  aussi se justifier de venir des ''territoires'' auprès des étudiants politisés de son université. Une position pas facile .Agnès Bensimon, notre critique littéraire nous présente le second livre de Yonathan Berg  traduit et publié chez l'Antilope.Au micro d'Emmanuelle Adda.

Quitter Psagot de Yonatan Berg

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads the work of Yonatan Berg. He is youngest recipient ever to win the Yehuda Amichai Poetry Prize, and his work has only begun to be published in Joanna Chen’s English translation. As Chen points out, Yonatan Berg’s poetry strides the lines that divide this country in so many ways, with honesty and compassion. "On Sabbath afternoon the air is quiet. We stroll towards the Sephardi synagogue, the hills filled with afternoon and beyond, the Dead Sea shimmers, burning with salt, thick with death. Rabbi Avi Sasson stands before us, his voice filling the curves of the stone with psalms. We sit down. Summer switches off and we give ourselves to the same cave where praises cover the decay of our lives – our parents arguing, journeys through Ramallah, the idea that around us hangs a permanent, burning growl of injustice: the shifting of Israel and Palestine’s tectonic plates." Yonatan Berg was born in 1981 in Jerusalem to a religious family and grew up in Psagot, a settlement in the West Bank. He served in the Israeli Defense Force and was engaged in the active combat that many of his poems witness. Text: “After a Night in the Alley of Worshipers” &amp; “Unity,” translated by Joanna Chen, in Lunch Ticket “The Mothers,” translated by Joanna Chen, in Contemporary Works in Translation. Oomph Press  Music:הניגון של הרב שמואל בצלאל אלטהויז Shlomo Carlebach - The Krakow Nigun Shlomo Carlebach - Eso Einai  Producer: Ariella Plachta Technical producer: Tammy Goldenberg

On today's episode, host Marcela Sulak reads the work of Yonatan Berg. He is youngest recipient ever to win the Yehuda Amichai Poetry Prize, and his work has only begun to be published in Joanna Chen’s English translation. As Chen points out, Yonatan Berg’s poetry strides the lines that divide this country in so many ways, with honesty and compassion. "On Sabbath afternoon the air is quiet. We stroll towards the Sephardi synagogue, the hills filled with afternoon and beyond, the Dead Sea shimmers, burning with salt, thick with death. Rabbi Avi Sasson stands before us, his voice filling the curves of the stone with psalms. We sit down. Summer switches off and we give ourselves to the same cave where praises cover the decay of our lives – our parents arguing, journeys through Ramallah, the idea that around us hangs a permanent, burning growl of injustice: the shifting of Israel and Palestine’s tectonic plates." Yonatan Berg was born in 1981 in Jerusalem to a religious family and grew up in Psagot, a settlement in the West Bank. He served in the Israeli Defense Force and was engaged in the active combat that many of his poems witness. Text: <a href="http://lunchticket.org/two-poems/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">“After a Night in the Alley of Worshipers” &amp; “Unity,” translated by Joanna Chen, in Lunch Ticket</a> <a href="http://www.oomphpress.com/new-products/contemporary-works-in-translation-a-multilingual-anthology-vol-1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">“The Mothers,” translated by Joanna Chen, in Contemporary Works in Translation. Oomph Press</a> Music:הניגון של הרב שמואל בצלאל אלטהויז Shlomo Carlebach - The Krakow Nigun Shlomo Carlebach - Eso Einai  Producer: Ariella Plachta Technical producer: Tammy Goldenberg

Traveling in psalms with Yonatan Berg