A Man In His Life by Yehuda Amichai

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget.
And his soul is seasoned. his soul
is very professional.
 
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled. doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.
 
He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry oil the ground.
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.