SELECTED WORKS · ENGLISH DOORWAY

Not a translation of the archive. A way in.

Eran Landau is an Israeli writer, composer and creator whose work moves between prose, poetry and music. It returns to memory, childhood, desire, loss, identity and the distance between a person and the self. The Hebrew archive remains the primary work; this page offers a small, curated English doorway.

PROSE / POETIC ESSAY

16:18

English translation excerpt.

“Eran died on Saturday at 16:17. At 16:18, he was still Eran. That was the first malfunction.”

A meditation on death, identity and the boundaries that let us become separate enough to reach one another.

Read the Hebrew original →
THE ZOHAR / SHORT PROSE

Sand Castle

English translation excerpt from “טירת חול”.

“The waves will wash it away soon,” she said, her eyes shining. “I know,” he answered. “But right now it is here. And it is larger than life.”

A brief piece about impermanence, love and the dignity of building what cannot be kept.

Read the Hebrew original →
ENGLISH / POETRY

HER SHADOW SPEAKS

Written in English.

Light rain on the deck, chrysanthemums dewy in damp terracotta skirts.

An English-language piece already living inside the Hebrew archive.

Read →
CHILDHOOD / POETRY

Father Never Changes

English translation excerpt from “אבא אף פעם לא משתנה”.

“In the morning we go out to check the nets. Father taught me how to tie a net. How to fish. If the nets are empty, we light a fire and wait. We eat the sun.”

A spare cycle of fatherhood, waiting, repetition and a childhood morning that seems unable to end.

Read the Hebrew original →
PROSE / MANIFESTO

Before the Light Died

English translation excerpt from “לפני שמת האור”.

“If you want to live — live for real.”

A feverish piece about the moment existence stops feeling like maintenance and remembers its fire.

Read the Hebrew original →
POETRY

The Room

English translation excerpt from “החדר”.

“This room saw us until the final moment.”

A room becomes witness to love, body, separation and what remains in the air after the door closes.

Read the Hebrew original →