POEM: 'Untitled, Jerusalem, 2002'

You are captives of illusion,
experts in eluding truth, you party, drink wine,
pick anemone in spring.

Occasionally you are reminded that life is transient as grass,
that death lies in ambush among green meadows.

Though the wrath of the suicide bomber is daily at your door,
your children bask in your warmth,
and this old earth, this biblical earth
blooming with camouflaged memories, quivers
with gratitude, that such people as you
inhabit it.

POEM: 'Untitled, Jerusalem, 2002'

Your Comments

The Forward welcomes reader comments in order to promote thoughtful discussion on issues of importance to the Jewish community. All readers can browse the comments, and all Forward subscribers can add to the conversation. In the interest of maintaining a civil forum, The Forward requires that all commenters be appropriately respectful toward our writers, other commenters and the subjects of the articles. Vigorous debate and reasoned critique are welcome; name-calling and personal invective are not and will be deleted. Egregious commenters or repeat offenders will be banned from commenting. While we generally do not seek to edit or actively moderate comments, our spam filter prevents most links and certain key words from being posted and the Forward reserves the right to remove comments for any reason.

Recommend this article

POEM: 'Untitled, Jerusalem, 2002'

Thank you!

This article has been sent!

Close