Meir Ariel's portrait on the jacket of his "best of" collection
It seems as though since the 1960s, nearly every culture on earth has grown its own “Bob Dylan”: a singer songwriter who draws strongly on the American folk tradition. Our own man was Meir Ariel, but he was much more than that.
Ariel was never quite a protest singer. He chose instead to map the Israeli experience with playful, wise lyrics and simple acoustic guitar. His achievement was enormous and his impact on our culture lasting. Here’s proof: 12 years after his passing from typhus at the age of 57, with no special occasion too call for it, a random blogger decides to put everything else aside, from West Bank tensions to the Lybian crisis, and dedicate a post to him. However, readers who take an interest in Israel but do not know Ariel, do not in fact know Israel. So I consider this an essential public service.
How does one map the Israeli experience? for example, by composing the monologue of a freed mental patient, urged by the doctors to visit the airport monthly in order to seek calm. On one such visit, he witnesses a terrorist attack.
One calmer monologue is that of a soldier spending a night on guard duty in the Sinai desert. He is is reading Ernest Hemingway’s “Islands in the stream” so most of the song is devoted to the despcription of a scene in the book. That scene is broken when the soldier is called to the watchtower. A few verses pass and he is allowed again to return to the tent, to his “apple-slice tea” his cigarette and novel.
Ariel’s lyrics are nearly impossible to translate, due to his whimsical use of language. Fortunatelty this song, entitled “Our forces in Suez experienced a quiet night”, happens to end with a line spoken in English over the harmonica fading out:
Hey nice Jewish boy
What are you doing here?
So much irony in a single simple question. This was the man’s style.
If Ariel’s exploration of politics in his songs was mild enough to keep him out of trouble, he managed to get himself into trouble otherwise. in 1998 he made several homophobic statements in a newspaper interview. He later apologized deeply in “The Pink Times”, a gay newspaper, explaining that he is a “complete ignorant” on the subject. Many of his gay fans forgave him. They had no choice. For the young progressive Israeli, life without Meir Ariel is unthinkable.
Another bit of trouble did spring from a song. in a tune entitled “Public Junky” Ariel attacked populistic politicians who are addicted to the public’s attention. He began the song by pointing out that everyone is addicted to something. “I personally am addicted to a chunk of hash” sang Ariel, and had the police shortly in his back yard, pulling out canabbis plants.
These may not be the most exciting music legend anecdotes ever told, but our legend was a kibutznik: an easygoing curlyheaded dweller of the countryside. He was also a veteran of the 1967 war who early in his career was known as “the singing paratrooper”.
Meir Ariel came directly out of conservative Israel of the kibbutz and the army, mixed what he got there with American musical influence, with a critical eye, with a chunk of hash and with an inimitable linguistic playfulness. He opened new doors for Israeli music and gave us our most solid rock-age treasures. There are very few artists, anywhere, who are so badly missed.
The following video is of the song Terminal Lominelt, the first to be mentioned in this post. it is taken from the documentary film “Meir Ariel’s election campaign tour”, a true classic. To me it says mountains about how we as Israelis fetishize Europe and America, how threatened we are by our own situation and how generally insane we feel. Here’s a literal, unrhymed translation in which just about everything, alas, is lost.
If I am not mistaken, Lominelt is an old psychiatric drug.
.
.
Terminal Lominelt
When I was released, the doctors suggested
that I pay the airport a monthly visit.
I really do like to watch a big plane
take off through a transparent teardrop.
Afterwards the pressure on the washed eye is lighter.
I pick a positive afternoon, go to the port
on the way I tell myself: we’ll have to be rehabilitated from this too.
Myself tells me as we arrive:
so lets start training every day.
Terminal, Je t’aime I love you Terminal Bella mia.
The doors guess me and open for me of their own,
I walk in slowly with plenty of ceremony in the butt
And all of the intercontinentality tickles me here and here
and here.
Taking myself to the bathroom to calm down
stealing a look at the mirror, I see a crazy man.
There are plenty of chicks like Terminal.
There she is standing arched,
two hand granades, huge earing, shortening hair
Like some suspicious object next to the Swissair counter.
The security guard gives her a penetrating stare.
Je t’aime, I love you Terminal bella mia.
I run to the departures board to find me a outbound flight
There one to Zurich via Rome in one hour
Polite loudspeakers give me an urging notice
Here in my side I suddently feel like a disturbence
A resolution is being squeezed out of me -
I love you Terminal Bella Mia!
I run back Swissairbound not to miss Terminal
Chicks like her – just flip through any magazine
But she’s no longer there,
same with the security offficer.
Polite loudspeaker – their tone’s now a bit more firm,
I have to go up and observe.
Here in my side it gets worse all the time
Nearly breathless I bump into the railing
a huge sunset’s light blinds me
A Swissair Boeing glides down, stops and waits.
A reddish boeing begins to rush and rise
slowly lifts off into the silent scarlet
through the teardrop of the beguiled clown
Terminal, Je t’aime I love you Terminal bella mia.
Here in my side the pressure is relieved
Suddenly the evening sky is lit by an explosion
Down in the field – commosion begins.
When I was released, the doctors suggested
that I pay the airport a monthly visit.
I really do like to watch a big plane
take off through a transparent teardrop.
Afterwards the pressure on the washed eye is lighter.
Indeed, myself says to me
We have found a remedy.
.
No high quality clip could be found for the next song, but the sound quality is good and this is definitely an essential. In 1978 not many Israeli songs dealt with the question of our relationship with Palestinian citizens of Israel Ariel did, in what many read as a political allegory. This is of course a song about a lover’s jealousy, but unlike other Israeli singers, this one couln’t take the reality of this place out of his day to day life, even out of his love life. The Arab is there, looking him directly in the eye.
.
.
Pain Song
Pain song, comes and goes.
It’s good that I’m singing now.
Song of pain, keeps coming back
So I’m singing now,
Maybe that helps.
She found her a young educated Arab man,
One I happened to know,
I even saw how it began
One night I got drunk
I felt how it’s crawling
Under my feet
And how it eats me up
To the tips of my nails
Alright, so I can’t surround a woman
365 degrees
There will always be some crack through which
she can suddenly be revealed
to a passerby who’d come and take
whatever she feels like giving
She just grabs for herself
another shuddery moment.
A young educated Arab,
educated to the tips of his nails
A young Arab who looks you
straight in the eye.
A teacher in some village at the Meshulash
who takes part in a mixed amateur theatre group
Of our mashed up regional council
She and I are dating for quite a while
it just so happens
What does she care about politics?
she still gives blow jobs
She’s simply crazy about acting,
she’s not one of those
but if there’s a course in the area
She wouldn’t mind going even with “them”.
She would go to the meeting
once a week
and come back with happy airs
pretty regularly
with a certain trace of panting
some blush in her cheek
Her living eyes would sting
tears out of me.
She invited me to the trimester party
They showed contact exercises
moving into touch he became a string for her
and she became bow
It really was a nice excercise
lots of applause
A young Arab man who looks you
straight in the eyes
After the party he invited me and her
up to his balcony
We drank coffee, drank brandy
his mother popped in every once in a while
He talked about theatre
as potential for bridging
“We can reach understanding”
she came over to him, moved.
I looked here, I looked there
I looked in all directions
Wherever my eyes crawled
the met up with his
Don’t know what he really
wanted to express
I just kept drowning myself
in the brandy.
Somewhere in the distance
Dogs were barking at the moon
“Let’s move” I said, “It’s late”.
“Hold on, what’s the rush?
Why not stay here tonight”
he abruptly suggested
“You are so drunk after all.”
I told him: “we will make it.”
“Where will you make it to?” he asked
looking in my eyes
I paid him back a look,
I threw: “Jerusalem”
It took him a little while to produce a smile
without moving a pupil
and then he talked to me
directly into the wine.
“In every sentence you say in Hebrew
There sits an Arab with a Nargila,
Even if it starts in Siberia
or in Hollywood with Hava Nagilla”
I told him in Yiddish:
“She is playing referee with us.”
Inside the bubble of her silence
Our eyes met again.
Pain song, comes and goes.
It’s good that I’m singing now.
Song of pain, keeps coming back
So I’m singing now,
Maybe that helps.
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Yaron Ben-Ami
Here’s an attempt at “Quiet night passed on our forces in Suez”. Sigh, poetry is that thing that gets lost in translation.
.
Reading Earnest Hemmingway’s Islands in the Stream
Beautifully translated by Aharon Amir
So, he’s soon going to make a play on his king size bed
And he’s one of the saddest people here.
.
He has already lost three sons, now he’s a secret service man
And it’s the secondest world war that ever was;
Sitting in this old Bar in Havana, never dreaming to meet Her here:
For years now none compared to her, he knows.
.
A four day leave, he drinks with an old hooker, now she wants
To hear a story, with a love theme, that’s how she wants the tale to be.
So he tells her of Hong Kong and all his Chinese girls, suddenly
In army uniform enters She.
.
They fell into each other’s arms, she’s entertaining soldiers,
But if he wants to, she’ll be all his tonight, no doubt.
She was his first wife, they are going down to his place for the evening,
Me, my shift is up, got to go out.
.
Full foxes’ moon slaps down on the entire town, the mountain,
And the sea and the parameter within,
And the telephone is ringing, and they say that it appears
A unit of the enemy sneaked in.
.
Back on forth with goggles that are drawn towards the moon
Just like the sea, but not a motion to be seen.
And get thee out is playing on the radio’s hit parade,
Oh, to get me out of here on board a plane…
.
Perhaps tomorrow at long last I will finally go on leave,
I hold on to the goggles, thinking fails,
And in my tent a cup of apple-slice tea and some light
And a cigarette and a good, tough-driving tale.
.
barring a little star pretending to be a strange, suspicious sound,
Nothing happened and the hits played on without a stop.
One last look at moon and city and the sea, and then a friend
Comes in and says go on to bed, your time is up.
.
Down go the tea, the apple slices, also four-five cigarettes,
Because my song got stuck and no new line appears,
But now at last he’s going to make a play on his king size bed
And he’s one of the saddest people here.
.
A quiet night passed on our forces in Suez.
A quiet night is passing our forces in Sidon.
ron
very nice translation .
Yuval Ben-Ami
Thank you cousin. I love this and the solutions you found for the tricky bits do the song huge justice.
.
For whoever seeks an interactive reading experience – this clip is taken from concert held a year after Ariel’s death in his memory. The singer is Ehud Banai, who was Ariel’s very dear friend. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3m6dgEK52bE&feature=related
.
I urge anyone else who wishes to post translations to do so. You don’t have to try and match Yaron’s semi-rhymed feat, but it would be great to have a few more of these.
Uri Sabach
Just wanted to note that Shir Ke’ev (Pain Song) is also about the (right of) return, if you want – Shir Ke’ev Over Vashav.
It’s the Over Vashav part which is not only “comes and goes” or the bank account, it’s also about returning the same old mistakes. The pain returns, the educated Arab returns.
Yuval Ben-Ami
Ok, I’ll do another one. This one was popularized by singer and actor Gidi Gov. Here’s his rendition: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWD5OT1FuIA&feature=related
.
A Heatwave’s Bounty
.
The big heatwave passed
The sun returned to the blue sea
and a silent wind calms
face and neck, nostrils and blood.
.
Two painters on the beach
see the end by the light of day
and a flock of seagulls like
a grayish vail, a caress of the sea.
.
She doesn’t know how much longer
she can pull
She doesn’t know how much longer
she can bite
and she already thought
of escaping this place
That’s no big deal
But she has nowhere to go.
.
And she falls asleep while awake
With her back to the sea
her head facing there
She doesn’t care. he can come
and just pass over her
with her back to the sea
her head facing there.
.
The electric light tickles
and arouses the darkness
and people go out to seek
an event to take place
by hazard, if possible.
.
Two painters on the bar
Still can’t believe that it’s over
and the dancer’s vail hovers
on the belly of her waves
by no coincidence.
.
And on the avenues
the trembling passes, augmenting
In the yards the fear burrows, collecting.
suddenly she’s taken by excitement -
the rim of an occurence
It will happen, it did.
.
The city opens before him
With her back to the sea
Her head facing there.
She doesn’t struggle to stop
doesn’t mind going over the edge.
With her back to the sea
her head facing there.
.
And she opens up before him
with her back to the sea
her head facing there
let the painters love her
let the drunkards paint her
with her back to the sea
her head facing there.
Ami Kaufman
I don’t even pretend to be as good as you guys, but here’s a shot at my favorite Ariel tune:
.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z2DUuI8F8Uo
.
CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF OF YOU
.
Can’t take my eyes off of you
off your eyes
that look like discoveries
can’t take my eyes off of you
off your lips
that produce such pearls
.
Really, after so many years
even from morning, before you wash your face
while you sit mumbling in front of the mirror
every second,
every movement
changes
.
Can’t take my eyes off of you
just more and more
magnetized
can’t take my eyes off of you
just more and more
hypnotized
.
And when I finally think I’m on the path
that will lead me to your secret garden
right then you blind me
with the magic simplicity of it all
.
Women’s groups rebuke me
for dropping all the house and family duties on you,
which is true
but what can I do,
I have no time, I have no time
I can’t take my eyes off of you
.
And when you stay away you’re not even here,
then I’m like the floating groom in Marc Chagall’s painting
this is a sign for you: every place you go
you step
you stand
and suddenly
you will smile
.
Can’t take my eyes off of you
my beauty, my beauty, my beauty!
no, no, no, no, no
I won’t take me eyes off of you!
My beauty, my beauty, my beauty
Paul Harris
Well, I’m not even going to entertain the thought of attempting to translate one of his songs – My Hebrew at its best wouldn’t have done any justice, and these days…sigh…
Suffice to say I am so VERY grateful for this blog/post/article, it means a lot to me – especially the songs which have been highlighted here. I understood them in a very general way – but not the small nuances or the clever turns of phrase which so often are lost in translation. With a song lyric, you miss one of those, and the game’s up. So once again – many many thanks for this from the bottom of my heart. Now I must share it with my brother many thousands of miles away…
Osnat Ita
DEEP BLUE EVENING
.
deep blue evening
hanging reddish earring for impression
and smoking a blossom
incense of china berry
and rustly whispering
maybe this time
maybe this time
.
how blue the evening
how deep, god knows
why don’t you surprise
sharp and smooth in entrance
like on the prowl
to quench once more
to quench once more
.
all the blue blues
all the endless deeps
i wish for this time
to fall on the sword, to die for you
to die, to die for you
in memory of an evening
that won’t return
.
deep blue evening
hanging moon shaped earring
just stand in entrance
without any notice
like on the prowl
to quench once more
to quench once more
Yuval Ben-Ami
So nice. Here’s a clip for the song Osnat translated. I couldn’t find a version on youtube that satisfied me, so this is yours truly singing – my first self-produced video.
.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6bouXjhfZw
Aron Gutman
Thanks so much for this. I lived in Israel for 8 years and i love Meir Ariel. Though I don’t fully understand his poetry, his genius is apparent.
Nachliel Bamot
Nothing written that as Meir was liberal,free thinker & never tred the beaten path even if artists & other left wingers as himself disagreed. Meir did his 3 year army draft in the Paratroop Brigade & continued service in reserves. I was with him for a number of years in that unit. He was far from militant(!) but realized that we need an active defence force. Being loved all over Israel for his music,I never knew the name of the singer since most often the names aren’t even mentioned. It was only after a few years that I realized that our Meir in the unit was that famous artist. He was just a very humble man.