I had the Haaretz obit up earlier, but the invaluable members of WOM-PO, the women's poetry discussion list, have turned up this link and also some poems, which I'm passing along. They were translated by Chana Bloch and Ariel Bloch. More soon.
YOU CAN'T KILL A BABY TWICEby Dahlia Ravikovitch (translated from the Hebrewby Chana Bloch and Ariel Bloch)
By the sewage puddles of Sabra and Shatila,there you transported human beingsin impressive quantitiesfrom the world of the living to the worldof eternal light.
Night after night.First they shot,they hanged,then they slaughtered with their knives.Terrified women climbed upon a ramp of earth, frantic:"They're slaughtering us there,in Shatila."
A thin crust of moonover the camps.Our soldiers lit up the place with searchlightstill it was bright as day."Back to the camp,beat it!" a soldier yelled atthe screaming women from Sabra and Shatila.He was following orders.And the children already lying in puddles of filth,their mouths gaping,at peace.No one will harm them.You can't kill a baby twice.
And the moon grew fuller and fullertill it became a round loaf of gold.
Our sweet soldierswanted nothing for themselves.All they ever askedwas to come homesafe.
SURELY YOU REMEMBERby Dahlia Ravikovitch (translated from the Hebrewby Chana Bloch and Ariel Bloch)
After they all leave,I remain alone with the poems,some poems of mine, some of others.I prefer poems that others have written.I remain quiet, and slowlythe knot in my throat dissolves.I remain.
Sometimes I wish everyone would go away.Maybe it's nice, after all, to write poems.You sit in your room and the walls grow taller.Colors deepen.A blue kerchief becomes a deep well.
You wish everyone would go away.You don't know what's the matter with you.Perhaps you'll think of something.Then it all passes, and you are pure crystal.
After that, love.Narcissus was so much in love with himself.Only a fool doesn't understandhe loved the river, too.
You sit alone.Your heart aches, butit won't break.The faded images wash away one by one.Then the defects.A sun sets at midnight. You rememberthe dark flowers too.
You wish you were dead or alive orsomebody else.Isn't there a country you love? A word?Surely you remember.
Only a fool lets the sun set when it likes.It always drifts off too earlywestward to the islands.
Sun and moon, winter and summerwill come to you,infinite treasures.