All night the army came up from Gilgal To get to the killing field, and that's all.
On a little hill amid fertile fields lies a small cemetery, a Jewish cemetery behind a rusty gate, hidden by shrubs,
After you left me I let a dog smell at
The memory of my father is wrapped up in white paper, like sandwiches taken for a day at work.
My child wafts peace. When I lean over him,
The first rain reminds me Of the rising summer dust.
Forgetting someone is like forgetting to turn off the light in the backyard so it stays lit all the next day
If I forget thee, Jerusalem, Then let my right be forgotten.
I don't Know if history repeats itself But I do know that you don't.
I have become very hairy all over my body. I'm afraid they'll start hunting me because of my fur.
And we shall not get excited. Because a translator May not get excited. Calmly, we shall pass on
An Arab shepherd is searching for his goat on Mount Zion And on the opposite hill I am searching for my little boy.
By classicpoet Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west, Latin writing, from west to east.
Memorial day for the war dead. Add now the grief of all your losses to their grief,
The end was quick and bitter. Slow and sweet was the time between us,
They amputated Your thighs off my hips.
Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing of the one you love
You mustn't show weakness and you've got to have a tan.
Do not accept these rains that come too late. Better to linger. Make your pain
A precise woman with a short haircut brings order to my thoughts and my dresser drawers,