You visit me inside the apple.Together we can hear the knifeparing around and around us, carefully,so the peel won’t tear.
You speak to me. I trust your voicebecause it has lumps of hard pain in itthe way real honeyhas lumps of wax from the honeycomb.
I touch your lips with my fingers:that too is a prophetic gesture.And your lips are red, the way a burnt fieldis black.It’s all true.
You visit me inside the appleand you’ll stay with me inside the appleuntil the knife finishes its work.
trans. by Chana BlochThe Selected Poetry of Yehuda Amichai (1996)
This is one of the most intense love poems I’ve ever read, and the apple is a place of vulnerability and nakedness that — if we’re so lucky — we can find someone to share with us, without flinching from fear of the knife. (More on the audio clip)