When high noon on a summer’s day <br />makes the sky a fiery furnace <br />and the heart seeks a quiet corner for dreams, <br />then come to me, my weary friend. <br /> <br />A shady carob grows in my garden – <br />green, remote from the city’s crowds – <br />whose foliage whispers secrets of God. <br />Good my brother, let’s take refuge. <br /> <br />Pleasure and tenderness let us share <br />in the sweet hidden prime of noon, <br />and the mystery golden rays reveal <br />when sunlight pierces the rich shade. <br /> <br />When the black cold of a winter’s night <br />bruises you with its icy pinch <br />and frost sticks knives in your shivering flesh, <br />then come to me, blessed of God. <br /> <br />My dwelling is modest, lacking splendour, <br />but warm and bright and open to strangers. <br />A fire’s in the grate, on the table a candle – <br />my lost brother, stay and get warm. <br /> <br />When we hear a cry in the howling storm <br />we will think of the destitute starving outside. <br />We will weep for them – honest pitiful tears. <br />Good friend, my brother, let us embrace. <br /> <br />But when autumn approaches with rain and cloud <br />and the roof leaks and there’s moth in the heart <br />and the desolate world sinks, sullen, in mire, <br />then merciful brother, leave me alone. <br /> <br />I would be alone in the barren time <br />when the heart withers in slow decay. <br />Unseen. Unknown. No stranger understands. <br />Let me grieve alone in my silent pain.<br /><br />Hayyim Nahman Bialik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-a-summer-s-day-2/
