The Eternal Mystery

The eternal mystery of oars
Plowing back as the boat floats forward,
So our deeds and words plow toward the past
For the body to go forward with the person inside.

I once sat in a barber's chair at the edge of the street
And in the big mirror I saw people come toward me
And suddenly disappear, swallowed by an abyss
Beyond the big mirror.


And the eternal mystery of sunset in the sea:
Even a professor of physics, who knows, says:
Look, the sun sets in the sea, red and beautiful.

Or the mystery of words like
"I could have been your father" or
"What did I do a year ago today?"
And other words like these.

--Yehuda Amichai