My Mother Baked the Whole World for Me

My mother baked the whole world for me

In sweet cakes.
My beloved filled my window
With raisins of stars.
And my yearnings closed inside me
Like bubbles in a loaf of bread.
On the outside, I am smooth and quiet and brown.
The world loves me.
But my hair is sad as reeds in a drying swamp--
All the rare birds with beautiful plumage
Flee from me.

Yehuda Amichai