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MORDECAI BAUMAN
(March 2, 1912 - May 16, 2007)

Read Mordy's short biography, written by Irma

Read Mordy's obituary, written by Steve Schwartz

Read condolence messages


INCANTATION
By Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Translated by Stanley Kunitz, with Anthony Kahn

Think of me on spring nights
and think of me on summer nights,
think of me on autumn nights,
and think of me on winter nights.

Though I'm not here, but somewhere gone,
far from your side, as if abroad.
Stretch yourself on the long cool sheet
flat on your back, as in the sea,
surrendering to the soft slow wave
with me, as with the sea, utterly alone.

I want nothing on your mind all day.
Let the day turn everything upside down.
Besmudge with smoke and flood with wine,
distract you till I fade from view.
All right, think of nothing by day
but in the night-only of me alone.

Over the locomotive whistles, over
the wind, ripping the clouds to shreds,
listen to me, for pity's sake.
Show me again, in the narrow room,
your eyes half shut with ecstasy and pain,
your palms pressing your temples till they ache.

I beseech you-in the silent stillness,
or when the rain patters on your roof,
or the snow sparks on your window panes
and you lie in between sleep and waking-

Think of me on spring nights
and think of me on summer nights,
think of me on autumn nights,
and think of me on winter nights.

 

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