[AZ Foreman]

This Hebrew poem is relentlessly iambic. Its language taut. Biblical. Unmodern. But rough. It's full of phrasing that echoes scripture, as is common for Hebrew poetry of this time. I've drawn attention to some instances that seemed important to understand in the crib which I interspersed with my transcription. The transcription is not Modern Israeli Hebrew, but the Ashkenazic pronunciation that Bialik wrote in, and wrote for.

The main reason I wanted to post this one here is because I'm having just an impossibly hard time choosing between my options on this one, coming up with the best of my possible worlds. I have come up with an alternate possibility for S1-2 and three different possibilities for S3-4.

Here's a recording of me reading the original out loud in Ashkenazic pronunciation.

"Seer, go, flee"
By Haim Bialik

(Amos 7:12)

"Go, flee"? It's not my way to flee. Not such as I do flee.
For my flock taught me to walk slow.
My tongue did not learn fluency. Other tongues learned smooth words. Not me.
My words falls like an axe's blow.

Was my strength spent in vain? The blunder I swung in vain? Not mine the blunder.
Is yours. Bear the iniquity. Yours is the sin, the guilt for good.
My hammer found no anvil under.
My sharp axe bit a rotten tree. fell on rotten wood.

No matter. Such my fate. Today,
My gear bound to my belt and back,
A worker cheated of his pay,
Slow as I came, I shall go back.

I'll go home to my valley, cut Back to my valley and my hut.
A pact with sycamores, and stay. Allied with sycamores I'll stay
But you are canker. You are rot.
The storm will blow you all away.

***

Alternate version

"Go, flee"? My kind flees not. My herd
Taught me slow walking with their tracks.
My tongue learned no smooth talk. My word
Falls sharp and heavy as an ax.

And if I swung in vain, the blunder
Was yours. Your sin. For you failed me.
My hammer had no anvil under.
My ax fell on a rotten tree.

No matter. I accept my fate.
Girt with the gear of my rude art,
A laborer cheated of his rate,
Slow as I came, I will depart

Home to my valley. There shall I
Make pact with sycamores today.
To putrid you I prophesy
The whirlwind. Now be blown away.

Another version of S3-4

No matter. Such my fate, this age.
With gear girt at my loins once more,
A wage-hire cheated of his wage,
I'll go back to my woodland door

At my own slow pace, and there make
My covenant with sycamores.
But you are rotten. You will break.
The storm will shatter you and yours.

Yet ANOTHER version of S3-4

No matter. Let my fate be so.
I'll gird my tools back up instead,
A wage-hire paid no wage, and go
Calm as I came, back to my shed

Deep in the woodland dells, and borrow
My strength from sycamores today.
But you are putrid rot. Tomorrow
The storm will sweep you all away.


***

Transcription with crib

khóyze, leykh, brakh

Seer/prophet, go, run away

The title is a quote from Amos 7:12 ("Also Amaziah said unto Amos, O thou seer, go, flee thee away into the land of Judah, and there eat bread, and prophesy there")

leykh brakh? loy-yívrakh iš komóyni!
halóykh balót limdáni bkóri,
gam dábeyr keyn loy-lómdo lšóyni
ukhkárdoym kóveyd yípoyl dvóri.

"Go flee?" A man of my kind flees not. (Or: Nobody flees the way I do)
My flock (lit. "my cattle") taught me to go slow/calmly.
My tongue did not learn to even speak properly (or: And my tongue hasn't learned to say Yes),
But like a heavy ax my words fall.

The words for "speak" (dábeyr) and "my words" (dvóri) are related and share a root. Ditto the words for "they taught me" (limdáni) and "it learned" (lómdo).

vim kóykhi tam lorík— loy-fíši,
khatáskhem hi, usú heóvoyn
loy-mótso tákhtov sdon patíši
kardúmi bo be'éyts rikóvoyn

And if my strength is spent in vain, it was not my crime/wrongdoing.
It is your sin. Bear ye the (guilt for) iniquity.
My hammer found no anvil under it.
My ax came (down) on rotten wood/tree.

(The "my strength is spent in vain" borrows the wording from Leviticus 26:20)

eyn dóvor! ášlim im-goyróli:
es-kéylay ékšoyr lakhgoyrósi,
uskhír hayóym belí skhar póli
ošúvo li balót kšebósi

No matter! (Or: "There is no word") I will make peace with (accept) my fate.
I will tie my tools to my belt.
A day-hire (day-laborer) without pay for my work,
I will return calmly as I came.

The words for "hire" (skhir) and "pay" (skhar) share a root.

el nóvi óšuv vel-amókov
veékhroys bris im šíkmey yóar
veátem — átem msoys verókov
umókhor yíso kúlkhem sóar

I will go back to my habitation and its valleys
And make a covenant with the sycamores of the forest.
But you (pl.) - you are canker/corruption and rottenness
And tomorrow the storm will carrry you all away.

The word for "habitation" in context has undertones of a humble home. The word for "my habitation" נוי nóvi is identical in pronunciation to נביא "prophet", and so the phrase "I will go back to my habitation" el novi ošuv is identical in sound to a hypothetical אל נביא אשוב "I will turn back (in)to a prophet". The idea of prophethood hovers unexpressed over the line in its sound.
The term for "making a covenant" (literally "cutting a covenant") is the standard Biblical phrase for making covenants with God, other nations etc.
The "sycamores of the wood" subverts the more authentically Biblical phrase atsey yoar "trees of the forest", setting the sycamore apart from the rotten tree in the second stanza.
The "storm carrying away" echoes phrasing from e.g. Isaiah 40:24, 41:16, and more generally carries with it overtones of the storm/whirlwind as the instrument of God's wrath.

Original Text:

חוֹזהֶ לֵךְ בְּרַח
חיים נחמן ביאליק

“לֵךְ בְּרַח?” – לֹא-יִבְרַח אִישׁ כָּמוֹנִי!
הֲלוֹךְ בַּלָּאט לִמְּדַנִי בְקָרִי,
גַּם דַּבֵּר כֵּן לֹא-לָמְדָה לְשׁוֹנִי
וּכְקַרְדֹּם כָּבֵד יִפֹּל דְּבָרִי.

וְאִם-כֹּחִי תַם לָרִיק – לֹא-פִשְׁעִי,
חַטַּאתְכֶם הִיא וּשְׂאוּ הֶעָוֹן!
לֹא-מָצָא תַחְתָּיו סְדָן פַּטִּישִׁי,
קַרְדֻּמִּי בָא בְּעֵץ רִקָּבוֹן.

אֵין דָּבָר! אַשְׁלִים עִם-גּוֹרָלִי:
אֶת-כֵּלַי אֶקְשֹׁר לַחֲגוֹרָתִי,
וּשְׂכִיר הַיּוֹם בְּלִי שְׂכַר פָּעֳלִי
אָשׁוּבָה לִּי בַּלָּאט כְּשֶׁבָּאתִי.

אֶל-נָוִי אָשׁוּב וְאֶל-עֲמָקָיו
וְאֶכְרֹת בְּרִית עִם שִׁקְמֵי יָעַר;
וְאַתֶּם – אַתֶּם מְסוֹס וְרָקָב
וּמָחָר יִשָּׂא כֻלְּכֶם סָעַר.