English translation

This poem, by Lea Goldberg, was originally written in 1938 or 1939 (according to Goldberg herself), with only an asterism for a title. It was first published on 19 February, 1943, in Davar, and then included (with slight alterations) in a collection of poetry regarding the ongoing Second World War, which was raging but with an end in sight at the same time as news of the Holocaust were pouring in, dedicated to ‘the Hebrew men and women serving as soldiers’ by poets of the Yishuv. Other poets contributing to the same collection wrote far more aggressive poems, outraged by the massacre and clamouring to strike back at the Nazis, but she decided to go a different route.

Having experienced the horrors of WWI as a refugee and the rise of Nazism in Europe, Goldberg refused to join the war effort as other poets of her milieu had: she felt that war was a deeply detestable thing, no matter how righteous it was, and that it makes people forget simple primitive truths about the beauty of the world and their own basic human values. She insisted that poets’ duty was not to praise war but instead insist on reminding people of such things.

In a 2023 article, Prof. Ziva Shamir wrote at length about Goldberg’s possible inspirations. Among them she points out that when she was eight years old, Goldberg was left in a literal field for several hours while her mother was visiting her husband, Goldberg’s father, who was held prisoner by Lithuanian nationalists who had suspected him of being a Soviet spy. They tortured him, physically and psychologically, leaving him severely mentally ill; he ultimately had to be hospitalized in a sanatorium, and as his wife and daughter moved to the Yishuv in 1935, he remained in Europe and would eventually be killed, likely around 1943–4. Thus, the poem seems to reflect a deep-seated trauma, both of war and the loss of her father, which Goldberg spoke little about, but had a profound impact on her life.

One such manner in which this impact was seen was in her impeded love life. As a young woman, Goldberg lived with her mother, who would take care of all housekeeping and let her talented daughter work for the livelihood of both of them, effectively making her own daughter ‘the man of the house’ (according to the norms of that time); at this period of her life, Goldberg would frequently fall in love with older men, serving as ersatz-father figures filling the role she was saddled with. One of these men was Avraham Ben-Yitzkhak. Shamir notes that the poem uses some similar metaphoric imagery of relief from burden to the one he employed, with such lines as, ‘And it shall be as the modesty of whiteness / After the rising rainbow,’ found in his poem ‘Blessed Be They Who Sow and Reap Not’ (אַשְׁרֵי הַזּוֹרְעִים וְלֹא יִקצרו, Ašre haZor‘im veLo Yikcoru). She referenced this poem of his, citing the line ‘and sheaves of our reaped fields’, in her 1952 essay commemorating him two years after his passing; these references appear alongside this poem of hers. Said essay also begins with the imagery of a field reaped in the summer, with its prickly grain stalk stubbles. In addition, Shamir says, the specific mention of the sun may be a reference to Ben-Yitzkhak’s birth name: Sonne, German for ‘sun’. Still, she notes that this association may be somewhat far-fetched.

Another likely explanation for the inspiration behind this poem, Shamir notes, is Goldberg’s work translating Natan Alterman’s first book, Stars Outside (1938), to Russian. This book, as well as a few other works of Alterman, use fields as a symbol both of giving life and endangering it. (See also his second book, Paupers’ Joy, from 1941, which takes its name from a line in a poem by Shmu’el the Prince: ‘And on the day of paupers’ joy upon reaping,’ as well as the first stanza of his later poem ‘Encampment Night’.)

Be her inspiration as it may, the poem and Goldberg’s attitude in general, as expressed in a paper titled ‘Regarding that Very Subject Itself’ (עַל אוֹתוֹ הַנּוֹשֵׂא עַצְמוֹ, ‘Al Oto haNose ‘Acmo) and published as early 8 Sept. 1939, were subject fierce debate at the time. Fellow poet Avraham Shlonsky took the opposite position, arguing that writing poetry on anything other than current events during wartime was akin to playing music at a mourner’s home, and Alterman took umbrage with her selective approval and disapproval of topics for poetry—exemplified by her approval of David’s lament for Jonathan and disapproval of the Song of Deborah. Indeed, the poem goes against the grain not only in terms of the contemporary zeitgeist (notable in the repeated use of ‘one may’, in contrast with Shlonsky-like prohibitive attitudes), but also with regards to restrictions on one walking alone, specifically in the field, found in Jewish religious writing (Jeremiah 6:25, Avot 3:4).

Still, regardless of any surrounding controversy, the poem proved successful, and has received a variety of musical renditions and even entered the national high school literature curriculum.