Hatred by Wislawa Szymborska
See how efficient it still is,
how it keeps itself in shape—
our century’s hatred.
How easily it vaults the tallest obstacles.
How rapidly it pounces, tracks us down.
It is not like other feelings.
At once both older and younger.
It gives birth itself to the reasons that give it life.
When it sleeps, it’s never eternal rest.
And sleeplessness won’t sap its strength; it feeds it.
One religion or another—
whatever gets it ready, in position.
One fatherland or another—
whatever helps it get a running start.
Just also works well at the outset
until hate gets its own momentum going.
Hatred. Hatred.
Its face twisted in a grimace
of erotic ecstasy.
Oh these other feelings, listless weaklings.
Since when does brotherhood draw crowds?
Has compassion ever finished first?
Does doubt ever really rouse the rabble?
Only hatred has just what it takes.
Gifted, diligent, hard-working.
Need we mention all the songs it has composed?
All the pages it has added to our history books?
All the human carpets it has spread
over countless city squares and football fields?
Let’s face it:
it knows how to make beauty.
The splendid fire-glow in midnight skies.
Magnificent bursting bombs in rosy dawns.
You can’t deny the inspiring pathos of ruins
and a certain bawdy humor to be found
in the sturdy column jutting from their midst.
Hatred is a master of contrast—between explosions and dead quiet,
red blood and white snow.
Above all, it never tires
of its leitmotif—the impeccable executioner
towering over its soiled victim.
It’s always ready for new challenges.
If it has to wait awhile, it will.
They say it’s blind. Blind?
It has a sniper’s keen sight
and gazes unflinchingly at the future
as only it can.
(כב) וַיִּתְרֹֽצֲצ֤וּ הַבָּנִים֙ בְּקִרְבָּ֔הּ וַתֹּ֣אמֶר אִם־כֵּ֔ן לָ֥מָּה זֶּ֖ה אָנֹ֑כִי וַתֵּ֖לֶךְ לִדְרֹ֥שׁ אֶת־יְהוָֽה׃ (כג) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְהוָ֜ה לָ֗הּ שְׁנֵ֤י גיים [גוֹיִם֙] בְּבִטְנֵ֔ךְ וּשְׁנֵ֣י לְאֻמִּ֔ים מִמֵּעַ֖יִךְ יִפָּרֵ֑דוּ וּלְאֹם֙ מִלְאֹ֣ם יֶֽאֱמָ֔ץ וְרַ֖ב יַעֲבֹ֥ד צָעִֽיר׃ (כד) וַיִּמְלְא֥וּ יָמֶ֖יהָ לָלֶ֑דֶת וְהִנֵּ֥ה תוֹמִ֖ם בְּבִטְנָֽהּ׃ (כה) וַיֵּצֵ֤א הָרִאשׁוֹן֙ אַדְמוֹנִ֔י כֻּלּ֖וֹ כְּאַדֶּ֣רֶת שֵׂעָ֑ר וַיִּקְרְא֥וּ שְׁמ֖וֹ עֵשָֽׂו׃ (כו) וְאַֽחֲרֵי־כֵ֞ן יָצָ֣א אָחִ֗יו וְיָד֤וֹ אֹחֶ֙זֶת֙ בַּעֲקֵ֣ב עֵשָׂ֔ו וַיִּקְרָ֥א שְׁמ֖וֹ יַעֲקֹ֑ב וְיִצְחָ֛ק בֶּן־שִׁשִּׁ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה בְּלֶ֥דֶת אֹתָֽם׃
(22) But the children struggled in her womb, and she said, “If so, why do I exist?” She went to inquire of Adonai, (23) and Adonai answered her, “Two nations are in your womb, Two separate peoples shall issue from your body; One people shall be mightier than the other, And the older shall serve the younger.” (24) When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb. (25) The first one emerged red, like a hairy mantle all over; so they named him Esau. (26) Then his brother emerged, holding on to the heel of Esau; so they named him Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when they were born.
(1) ויתרצצו AND [THE CHILDREN] STRUGGLED — You must admit that this verse calls for a Midrashic interpretation since it leaves unexplained what this struggling was about and it states that she exclaimed “If it be so, wherefore did I desire this” (i.e. she asked whether this was the normal course of child-bearing, feeling that something extraordinary was happening). Our Rabbis explain that the word ויתרוצצו has the meaning of running, moving quickly: whenever she passed by the doors of the Torah (i. e. the Schools of Shem and Eber) Jacob moved convulsively in his efforts to come to birth, but whenever she passed by the gate of a pagan temple Esau moved convulsively in his efforts to come to birth (Genesis Rabbah 63:6). Another explanation is: they struggled with one another and quarrelled as to how they should divide the two worlds as their inheritance (Yalkut Shimoni on Torah 111:2).
(ט) וַיָּרָץ עֵשָׂו לִקְרָאתוֹ וַיִּשָּׁקֵהוּ (בראשית לג, ד), נָקוּד עָלָיו, אָמַר רַבִּי שִׁמְעוֹן בֶּן אֶלְעָזָר בְּכָל מָקוֹם שֶׁאַתָּה מוֹצֵא הַכְּתָב רַבָּה עַל הַנְּקֻדָּה אַתָּה דוֹרֵשׁ אֶת הַכְּתָב, הַנְּקֻדָּה רַבָּה עַל הַכְּתָב אַתָּה דוֹרֵשׁ אֶת הַנְּקֻדָּה, כָּאן לֹא כְתָב רַבָּה עַל הַנְּקֻדָּה וְלֹא נְקֻדָּה רַבָּה עַל הַכְּתָב אֶלָא מְלַמֵּד שֶׁנִּכְמְרוּ רַחֲמָיו בְּאוֹתָהּ הַשָּׁעָה וּנְשָׁקוֹ בְּכָל לִבּוֹ. אָמַר לוֹ רַבִּי יַנַּאי אִם כֵּן לָמָּה נָקוּד עָלָיו, אֶלָּא מְלַמֵּד שֶׁלֹא בָּא לְנַשְּׁקוֹ אֶלָּא לְנָשְּׁכוֹ, וְנַעֲשָׂה צַוָּארוֹ שֶׁל אָבִינוּ יַעֲקֹב שֶׁל שַׁיִשׁ וְקָהוּ שִׁנָּיו שֶׁל אוֹתוֹ רָשָׁע, וּמַה תַּלְמוּד לוֹמַר וַיִּבְכּוּ, אֶלָּא זֶה בּוֹכֶה עַל צַוָּארוֹ וְזֶה בּוֹכֶה עַל שִׁנָּיו. רַבִּי אַבָּהוּ בְּשֵׁם רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן מַיְיתֵי לָהּ מִן הָכָא (שיר השירים ז, ה): צַוָּארֵךְ כְּמִגְדַּל הַשֵּׁן וגו'.
(9) ...Esau ran to greet him. [He embraced Jacob and, falling on his neck,] he kissed him; [and they wept.] (Gen. 33:4). [The word] 'kissed' is dotted [above each letter in the Torah's writing]. Rabbi Simeon ben Elazar said . . . it teaches that [Esau] felt compassion in that moment and kissed [Jacob] with all his heart. Rabbi Yannai said to him: If so, why is ['kissed'] dotted? On the contrary, it teaches that [Esau] came not to kiss [Jacob] but to bite him, but our ancestor Jacob's neck became like marble and that wicked man's teeth were blunted. Hence, 'and they wept' teaches that [Jacob] wept because of his neck and [Esau] wept because of his teeth.
כל העולם כולו גשר צר מאוד, והעיקר – לא לפחד כלל
Kol ha’olam kulo gesher tzar me’od, veha’ikar lo le’fached klal
The whole world is a very narrow bridge
and the most important thing is not to be overwhelmed by fear
,The Exodus from Mitzrayim occurs in every human being"
".in every era, in every year, and in every day
Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlov