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I Will Never Want Another Beauty


I Will Never Want Another Beauty

The sun sets on the Effendi house. Each time I see the lone Effendi’s house on the hill on the way to Rehovot my heart aches. I know that the landscape of the citrus groves, the red soil, the sandstone, the cactus, the citrus grove pools and the donkeys that the Effendi saw from among the amazing arches of his veranda was no less cruel to its inhabitants than the view of the skyscrapers, the highways and the electricity poles that close in on the hill. I know that the naivety of the landscape the writer Izhar Smilanski describes was not reflected in the way people treated each other or in the way nature treated the living beings. All this doesn’t even matter. The lone Efendi house is a lost and defenseless paradise in face of progress. As Lassi’s kid said when she was sold behind his back to the estate owner: I will never want another beauty.


From → Memory

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