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When I die
to become another essence,
the invisible Mount Carmel –
which is all mine, all
the quintessence of joy,
whose needles, cones, flowers, and clouds
are carved into my flesh –
will part from the visible Carmel
with its boulevard of pine trees
descending to the sea.

Does the pleasure of a red sunset
come from the mortal element in me?
And the pleasure of earth’s perfumes,
and the moment when the sea bursts into spray,
and the moment of return
to the stern gaze of Jerusalem’s sky,
to the Supreme One –
is all this from the mortal element?