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(Written at the end of 1939 in Havana—with thoughts about Poland)
Our poor nest eternally atremble
in the wind.
What will happen now, in bloody storm,
mayn kind?
Now, in bloody storm . . . ?
The…
This day is our war, my sister,
So I am far away from here.
Please keep our rendez-vous
In our tiny kitchen
Before my usual chair
Fill a glass of wine
And treat it as if I am
Sitting across from…
When we were the persecuted
I was one of you
How can I remain one
when you become the persecutors?
Your longing was
to become like other nations
who murdered you
Now you have become like them
You…
The tale of the Generation of the Land is a sad tale. Reflecting about the source of the depression that the situation in Israel instills in me, I can only ascribe it to expressions of ethnocentric…
Moshe:How? There’s no inner sanctum in my life, my life is secular, absolutely secular, from beginning to end. And what’s not in my psyche, I’ll not let you erect between us. Neither you nor anyone…
Abraham:We only have a few minutes, and we have to decide whether the kibbutz should keep fighting, despite the army’s withdrawal, while we’re surrounded. It must be clear that any decision, one way…
A State is not handed to a people on a silver platter.[Chaim Weizmann, first president of Israel]. . . and the land was silent. The incarnate sunFlickered languidlyAbove the smoldering borders.And a…
Across a red horizon evening descends
In the breeze treetops tremble and sway
As we sit around the campfire and tell
Of a Palmach man, Dudu was his name
He was with us on long exhausting treks
We…
To Dani and his friendsBehold, our bodies are laid out—a long, long row.Our faces are altered. Death looks out of our eyes. We do not breathe.Twilight dwindles and evening falls over the mountain.Look…
We left slowly. The night was pale.
In the distance the lights flickered.
And you were all loveliness like your two eyes
With tears cupped in them.
The jackal howled as you went to the vineyard
You…