Ilya Levinson

Ilya Levinson 3933 N. Troy Street, Chicago, Illinois 60618


Out of Depth I Cry
Text by Ruth Gembicki Bragg I am a mother without a child. I am a wife with-out a man. Rivers hold my tears. I am a child with no eyes to see who sees again when I am a-sleep. I am a daughter with no face. My mo- ther said that I was pret-ty once. Deep breath, scream, Body to blood to bone to fire to dust, country to savagery, country to animals, Marriage to rape. Our lives are eaten away We didn't do it, and do not blame it on God! Rivers hold my tears. Oceans are salt with generations of sorrow. Mountains have heard the thunder echo of war too long. Cities hide their shattered windows eyes. Son, daughter, mother, father, holy shrine of our family. Disease of war, lingering barrenness. Fields that grow skulls. Victory that grows chaos, is this our future? Yisgaddal v'yiskaddash sh'mey rabboh B'olmoh deev'ro chirusey, V'yamlich malchusey B'chayycyclion uv'yomeychon Uv'chayyey dechol beys yisroeyl Qadula'hibba Plachu i ry'dau, egda pomy'chslayu smert' i vizhdu vo grobach lezhaschuiu po obrazu bozhiu sozdannuiu nashu krasotu bezobraznu, besslavnu, ne imuschau vida. Out of the depth I call to you, o Lord; Lord, hear my cry, May your ears be at-ten-tive to my cry for mer-cy. Rain your just and beau-ti-ful un-end-ing peace on us all.
American Landscapes, Space No, 1
Shtetl Scenes: 1. Forgotten Dreams