Dahlia Ravikovitch fits into many different categories.

She is claimed by her country, Israel, and her

Jewish background, called “One of the pillars of Hebrew writers” (Green). She is connected to human
rights activists and protesters of war. She is a woman, sometimes writing about this aspect of her life:
both celebrating womanhood and protesting its limitations. Finally, the broadest category to which she
belongs is to humanity, as she explores her self: her inner recesses, faults, and loneliness.

The area where I felt she most expressed her passion, however, was in her poems about war. Here, with
vivid imagery and emotional expression, Ravikovitch taps into a current of feeling running very strong.
She seems to be able to create universality out of her poems even though they protest specific events.
As J.D. McClatchy says in The Vintage Book of Contemporary World Poetry, “she makes a military horror
into a moral fable of violence and detachment that continues to haunt” (329). This ability seems to me
born out of her intense feeling and emotional reaction against the events about which she writes.

Her poem “Hovering at a Low Altitude” is one such work about war, describing the rape of a young
shepherd girl. The poem begins with a strong statement but what seems a quiet dignity: “I am not here.”
This line initiates right away a yearning for detachment, and this rings throughout the poem. The vivid,
horrific event described is continually juxtaposed with these statements. “I am not here. I am not here,”
the speaker repeats again and again, as if she is trying to tell herself, make herself believe that she is
not. And between these lines, the story comes out.

The poem first introduces the girl, then right away says, “She won’t live out the day, / that girl.” This is
such a simple, grave statement and almost imitates a child-like honesty. Without sparing words, the
speaker tells us right away that this girl is doomed. There is a sorrow, a pity in that simple statement as
well. At times the speaker has the ring of an unfeeling, omniscient observer, seeming to watch from afar
all that happens, but at other times the speaker expresses very strong emotions. In one instance of this,
the following lines, she objectively describes more the circumstances of the situation and the girl,
saying: “From the deep mountain gorge / a red globe floats up, / not yet a sun . . .” Soon, though, the
narrator’s emotions surface. She turns back inward, saying, “I am not here.” Then, “The light will not
burn me, the frost / won’t touch me. / Why be astonished now? / I’ve seen worse things in my life.” She
seems to be attempting to comfort herself, trying to calm herself down. The lines hint at the idea that
she is only trying to make herself believe what she is saying, that she is not bothered, but that she is
really emotionally affected.

The next line is to me one of the most important in the poem, as she says, “I gather my skirt and hover
very close to the ground.” This hovering is referred to in the name of the poem, of course, and later it is
described more: “My thoughts cushion me gently, comfortably. I’ve found a very simple method, / not
with my feet on the ground, and not flying-- / hovering / at a low altitude.” The visual image of this is
almost angel-like, this omniscient viewer suspended in the air, watching all. But the image created does
not completely follow an angelic theme. The observer is not completely worried about the girl she
watches; she is also looking out for herself. Her hovering is more about being able to protect and
“cushion” herself, detach herself from the danger that is going to happen in front of her eyes. This is an
ever-present conflict in the poem.
The lines sandwiched between the ones above about her detachment suggest to me that she wasn’t
quite so uninvolved and “cushioned” from the situation as she would like. From her vivid, detailed
description, it seems the viewer was deeply intent on watching everything about the girl and not so
much on detaching herself: “What is she thinking, that girl? / For a moment she crouches down, / her
cheeks flushed, / frostbite on the back of her hands.” The scene, imprinted this clearly, doesn’t seem like
it would be easily forgotten. Later, the observer addresses this, saying, “With one strong push I can
hover and whirl around / with the speed of the wind. / I can get away and say to myself: / I haven’t seen
a thing.” But these lines are ironically followed by the most vivid, horrific lines of the poem, describing in
incredibly vivid images the girl’s reaction before death. Again, it is hard to believe that this narrator
could every really forget.

Throughout the poem, there is this conflict between what the narrator sees and what she wants to see.
When talking about her ability to detach herself, the speaker is talking directly to herself, telling herself
she isn’t where she is or she isn’t seeing what she sees. But it seems to me there is a difference between
what she is telling herself and her true reality. This seems crucial, the sort of inner turmoil that is
created out of a traumatic experience, the mind replaying and replaying the event while some part of
the person yearns to control it and disprove or discredit its truth. Ravikovitch seems to capture in this
poem an incredible amount of empathy and emotional understanding of the injustice she describes and
its effects. The sorrow and regret Ravikovitch must feel for such events resonates very strongly
throughout the work.

A second theme in Ravikovitch’s work, something that even weaves its way into the preceding poem, is
inner struggles and self-discovery. This theme seems another emotionally packed area for her. Her
poems “Surely You Remember” and “Hard Winter” both explore these sorts of struggles, emulating
overall the great precariousness of a person experiencing such emotional turmoil. In the poem “Hard
Winter,” this is done using a metaphor, a description of a mulberry tree stuck by lightening. The poem
succeeds in creating a great amount of tension and anxiety through this seemingly simple idea.

The poem begins with a startling image: “The little mulberry shook in the flame / and before its glory
vanished / it was lapped in sadness.” The word “little” seems to create a sort of sympathy for the tree. It
is small and slight, and it is shaking, being attacked violently. The next line exudes emotion as well, as
the speaker watches the tree’s “glory” and splendor disappear in a moment. The life and the beauty of
this thing is destroyed right before the speaker’s eyes, and it is obviously very disturbing for her to
watch. At this point, it isn’t clear what is causing the tree to tremble and succumb, losing its glory. This
makes the poem all the more striking and tension-filled.

The final line in this series is the first hint of a metaphor. The tree experiences “sadness,” a human
emotion. This word does two things. First, it shows a great connection and compassion for nature on
Ravikovitch’s part. Secondly, it gives the tree a human emotion and therefore human characteristics,
making the reader wonder if the author is really talking about a tree or if it is a metaphor for a human.
Whatever is meant, however, the emotion calls upon all the more sympathy and compassion from the
reader; this little tree is really suffering.
In the next stanza, the poem introduces new subjects to the poem: “Rain and sun ruled by turns, and in
the house / we were afraid to think / what would become of us.” Is this a really bad storm, one
wonders? Why does this affect these people, safe in the house, so much that they themselves almost
feel in danger? The people continue to watch the tree, and “Each of us was sunk in himself alone.” This
event is definitely not only affecting the tree. These people all seem in pain or turmoil about what is
happening.

Then in the next stanza, the author seems to give the first inkling of connection. “But for an instant,
offguard, / I saw / how men topple from this world.” So this tree is showing us something about men,
about humanity. The tree’s struggle correlates to humans’ lives. “Like a tree that lightening splits, /
heavy with limbs and flesh, the wet branches / trampled like dead grass.” The tree is weighted down, is
struggling hard. The author through this vivid imagery creates such a vivid conflict, the image being able
to then manifest human conflict.

The last stanza is the most intriguing: “All the fibers of the plants were intent / on themselves alone. /
This time I never thought I’d survive.” The first two lines echo a line earlier in the poem: “Each of us was
sunk in himself alone,” and the parallel between the tree and the people becomes clearer. Earlier, the
people see the suffering of the tree and have to turn inward, and now it is clear that the suffering tree is
doing the same. But the last line is surprising, with its switch in focus to the first person. The poem has
spent the majority of its time describing the violent struggle of the tree, but at the end, the speaker
turns to talking of her own struggle to survive.

This makes me think of two things. First, it reminds me of the preceding poem, “Hovering at a low
altitude.” It seems to echo that poem’s theme of watching someone/thing suffer and struggle and not
being able to do anything about it, then having to deal with the inner turmoil this creates. Secondly, the
poem makes me think that maybe the tree is a metaphor for the speaker herself, that this vivid, physical
description is a way of personifying, making come alive and concrete her own spiritual, emotional (and
therefore abstract) struggle.

What makes me think it might be this second idea is because of Ravikovitch’s poem “Surely You
Remember.” But it is interesting to me that, comparing “Hard Winter” to one of these poems or the
other, one can find similarities in theme running through both. The poem “Surely You Remember” is also
very much about an inner struggle, a struggle for finding self. The speaker in the poem talks about being
alone with her poetry, “After they all leave.” The speaker seems to find in poetry a vehicle for turning
inward. “I remain quiet . . . I remain,” the poem repeats. Once, alone, however, this person experiences
tension: “You wish everyone would go away. / You don’t know what’s the matter with you” and later
“You wish you were dead or alive or / somebody else.” But she also seems to find some sort of answers,
some clarity, as she says, “Then it all passes, and you are pure crystal.”

The poem later refers to Narcissus, looking into the river: “Narcissus was so much in love with himself. /
Only a fool doesn’t understand / he loved the river too.” This part seems to describe a sense of self-
absorption. The speaker seems in conflict with her need to turn inward and to poetry. Poetry allows her
to see herself better, as Narcissus could see himself in the river, but it also is a selfish thing. Towards the
end of the poem, she asks, “Isn’t there a country you love? A word? / Surely you remember.” She seems
to want to find something to focus on, to devote her attention to, even though at this moment she is
too sad and depressed to really think of anything else.

The imagery and emotions wrought in this last poem are really too much to describe to any depth or
great clarity here. But I think the main thing I took from this poem was the idea of inward turn and
turmoil. The speaker of this poem is definitely struggling with these ideas, and what seems interesting to
me is that, while “Hard Winter” manifests this idea in a concrete, vivid description, “Surely You
Remember” describes it in the emotions and thoughts themselves. While both poems are valuable and
effective, the effects are really quite different, and to me, the vivid description has quite a strong effect
and can describe more emotion than I would’ve thought possible.

Ravikovitch has a great variety in the ideas she expresses and in her methods of expressing them. By
reading a broader base of her poems, one can begin to understand more about her personality and
beliefs as a poet and a person. From my readings, I have begun to see a picture of an introspective,
passionate, social justice-minded, and nature-loving woman. But the most exciting thing about poetry-
and poets-is that there is still so much more to discover.