As soon as she retired, Annette Libeskind Berkovits plunged into the world of language: reading, writing, study, critiquing the works of fellow writers and honing the craft of painting images with words. Perhaps it was something that grew out of her necessity to learn new languages quickly in order not to sink in new environments.
Her first languages were the warm Yiddish of her parents, mixed with the mellifluous tones of Russian, a Slavonic language. By age three she had to be fluent in the hard-edged Polish, Slavonic, yet very different from Russian. Then just ten years later the inscrutable, guttural words of Hebrew, a Semitic language with a yet entirely different alphabet had to become second nature. But even then it wasn’t enough. Two years after becoming completely fluent in Hebrew, Annette had to learn enough English to pass a difficult exam just four months after her arrival in New York. By then her ear had become accustomed to wildly different sounds and her affinity for language in all of its shades and colors grew.
Annette’s poetry is an art that flows directly from emotions. Unlike her non-fiction, it requires no research, but it does require digging deep into her soul to find ways to say the unsayable, to paint the unseen.
Her most recent compilation, A Mother’s Lamentations, is a collection related to her son’s struggle in the aftermath of a devastating hemorrhagic stroke.
Annette’s work has also appeared in: