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To the sacred memory of dear Shmulik and his comrades who fell in the battle to liberate Yeḥi‘amHe rose from the bed shading his eyes with his hands as if it was light although it was still dark. His…
After I published my son’s literary estate in a book, I still had a few scraps of writing and documents of various kinds that I didn’t know how to put together with everything that seemed clear and…
Crags in the mountains facing us
are like bereaved mothers
who long ago altered their image:
dew does not slake them,
the sun does not gild them.
—How terrible their silence
and where can we flee?—
A…
Your glory, O Israel,
Lies slain on your heights;
How have the mighty fallen!
Tell it not in Gath,
Do not proclaim it in the streets of Ashkelon,
Lest the daughters of the Philistine rejoice,
Les…
I wipe the dust off my books
with a small t-shirt, an old t-shirt
which was once my son’s. We have
more dust this summer than last,
and its composition is different…
As you die there in agony, brother,
Don’t be calling your comrades in vain.
Let me warm my hands on your body,
Make good use of the blood from your veins.
Stop crying, stop groaning, don’t be a…
Avishai:There’s nothing joyful about the guys who returned from the war. I don’t have the feeling that this is the last time that the people sitting here will put on uniform. Right after the war the…