- -
Move over, you’re blocking
my view!-
Of the future, - he added.
- -
I have been sitting up here
For three thousand years,
Maybe four.
She shrugged her hills
And didn’t budge an inch.
- -
And who may you be, sir?
- -
What makes you think,
He persisted, -
-
That some piles of old
stones,
Ruins and dust,
Your long outskirts,
A few donkey-wide streets,
The infinite bloodshed and prayer,
Of hordes of obstinate bigots, -
Are of any use today?
He puffed out smoke,
Rudely scratching his dunes,
Adjusted his chimneys,
And leaned back to listen.
- -
Dear newcomer,
She was shaking with fury, -
-
Tel Aviv, - he corrected.
- -
Whoever you may…
- -
I am a hundred years young!
-
He insisted.
- -
Would you please be still
for a moment?
- -
I cannot, - he protested. -
I shan’t ever stop moving,
Dancing and walking,
Grooving and biking…
Hey, are you sleeping again?
Hey, are you sleeping again?
- -
My streets have never stopped
singing,
Prayers and memories,
Spirits and rabbis, -
Sacred and pure,
The quivering air
Upholding the hope,
Of generations…
- -
Poor lady, oh no…
Have you ever heard of equality?
Marching for freedoms,
Liberal values,
End occupation,
This is what matters,
Gain some awareness…
- -
Where’s that written?
- -
In our Independence, -
What? You don’t know?
- -
Which volume of Talmud? -
She was getting impatient. -
-
Letters of fire
Floating on parchment.
Crowns and vowels,
Sang out loud,
Voices of prophets,
Ringing Truth in your ears…
- -
Says who? - laughed the
youngster.
- -
What? You don’t know?
***
They argue and argue,
Year after year,
Through storms and the rockets,
Heatwaves and swelter,
Neighbours forever,
Infinite rivals,
Tel Aviv and Jerusalem,
Polar opposite cities.
In every Tel Aviv there is a little Yerushalayim and in Yerushalayim there is a little Tel Aviv.
ReplyDeleteVery nicely written.
Thank you!
ReplyDelete