MAX JACOBme: You don’t know what a comfort it is to have you near me.
the angel: We love you, man of no account. Think upon it.
me: Oh, rapture! I understand, Lord; oh, yes, I understand!
—moishe black and maria greenVisitation
My room is at the far end of a courtyard and behind some shops, at number 7
Ravignan Street. Room, house, you will always be the chapel of my undying
remembrance! I lay there thinking, stretched out on the box-spring held up by
four bricks; and the landlord made an opening in the zinc roof to let in more
light. Who’s knocking at my door so early in the morning?—Open up! Open the
door! Don’t get dressed!—It’s you, Lord!—The cross is heavy: I want to set it
down.—The door is very narrow; how will it get in?—It can come in through the
window.—Warm yourself in here, Lord! It’s so cold out!—Look at the cross!—My
whole life long, Lord!
—moishe black and maria green
Shady Soul
I am too fond of the universe to live with just one being.
How could I get along with a human and not o√end him in the name of
everyone? A demon, I can’t get along with God; an angel, with the demon. How
could I get along with you if I don’t get along with myself? Where to escape, if the
sky and hell are as closed to me as the earth?
—mary ann caws
Meeting
A solitary dance on the windings of the red carpet: you can manage to dance
while walking. Braque tries to invite me, and looks to me like a schoolboy:
kneeling in front of the sofa, I explain: ‘‘You may be rich but you won’t ever have
your socks mended correctly and you will always be crazy enough to try to, that’s
one of life’s di≈culties. A seamstress mends undergarments and not socks, if she
mends them, she never finishes, or does it with a thread of another color.’’ I wind
up, for the children: ‘‘There’s an ox in the bedroom, in your bedroom.’’
—mary ann caws