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“Are you still going?”Asked by a friend as I pack my bagsFor a trip that’s been promised a year and a dayA trip long discussedAnd oh so desperately needed“Are you still going?”In light of recent current
Praise the fallen worldand its dreamy terrors.Praise the false certaintyof unflickering leadersand their certain masses.No one knows better. My cravings crave solitude.My cravings crave spaceto grow and spread their wings.I hear it mostly at the playground.My
It is too early and too late to dream.My sister-God braids my hair forit has grown since the mirrors wore black. It is too early to die, too late to be born.I have carrots to chop,
Uncle Yosele, may you rest peacefullyoutside Tel Aviv in the makeshift hospitalwhere cousin Bati watches over you.She told me how you hid under a carfor two days without water,how you saw your son Ron massacredholding the
“What are you doing still awake?”She answered him:“I love.”from the Russian of Leonid Martynov “Are you a Zionist?” they asked,their faces covered in keffiyehs.On their chessboard hate was masked.She stood alone. She had no fear.“No Zionist
They sing.At the stupid o’clockwheneven Sunhasn’tgot up yetbut only opened its eyes,stretched out and yawnedthese irksome creatures alreadytweetchirppeepsingtheir dumb happy songsand don’tlet me sleep. They sing.Clang, tinkle, ring.When I work.When I walk.When I speakon the phone.I
Some people wear their heart on their sleevesTo show it off to all aroundMine lays heavy, tied round my neckIt’s weight, it’s worth I’ve avowed Some people’s hearts protected and safeAwait that pure moment of loveMine
AL ELE ANI BOCHIYA1 Hashem, and the Heavenly Court, enterthe Beit Knesset on Rosh Hashanahto open The Books.2 uNetaneh Tokef3 softly wafts through the hall andHashem opens the first page of The Book;tears unexpectedly fall from
You don’t care when our soldiers are killed.You don’t care when our elderly are murdered.You don’t care when our women are raped.You don’t care when our men are brutally slaughtered.You don’t care when our children are
I see faces I do not knowAnd my heart is breakingI see names I do not knowAnd my soul aches BraveSelflessPatriots Each one held closely in the hearts of their loved onesEach one with a story