This is an excerpt from a Hebrew prayer that we are going to say (in Hebrew) when we bury Saturn’s ashes. May others find comfort in it.
May my portion be among you, ye meek of the world, ye speechless of soul, who embroidered our lives in secret, retiring in word and deed, hidden dreamers, small of speech but great in glory. Lord of the spirit, and you knew it not, artists of exquisite silence, priests of the stillness of G-d, you met, unchanged, all that befell you: great things and mean, justice and wrong alike. Softly, as if on tiptoe, did you pass along the paths of life, your hearts awake, your ears attentive, your eyes ever watchful, and as you passed along, you scattered round you without intent, scarcely knowing what you did, the seeds of faithfulness and purity.
You had no place in the ranks of the prophets, no place in ornate chambers, solitary your footsteps died away, leaving no echo, no trace. But your life! That was your prophecy, and your very being was your glory. You are the faithful guardians of the image of G-d in the world! And as G-d lives, nota flutter of our eyelids shall be lost, not the slightest motion of your spirit every perish!
Til the final generation, when the last song of the mighty Psalmists is ended, and the name and lore of ancient sages be utterly forgotten, these still shall live, revealed anew in the light that gleams in the eyes and shines on the human face.
Shalom, Sweet Saturn,
| Saturn |
| 2003 |
| Devorah Grunau |