Because I am responsible
as far as possible
I have to
immerse myself in the life

of the rivers in the delta
know the seasons
the wind and the tides
to have any chance

If I were the water myself
I would look for openings too
press on the weak spots
and break through where possible

not be brackish, smothered
evaporating in the blazing sun
of settlers who surround me
with concrete walls and soldiers

It would be all or nothing to me

A rebel or a promise?
Our eldest son failed
we do have to keep silent about him

Another hard lesson
the bosses of the soldiers
are our bosses

We will have to concede
no longer believe
that it will ever be all right

that there will ever be a House
indestructible, with in the corner
a rejected stone

We will not build that house
but perhaps we will become rich
enough to buy the weapons

with which we can conquer the land
as ruthless as the tribes
led by Joshua

Once there was prosperity here
thriving trade, the coast a ribbon
of harbours full of ships

the land of the Philistines
now suffocated, enclosed
by the ghetto

There are Summer Rains
breaking our bones, the roads
and bridges, the quays and offices

The roofs of the schools
devastated, sewers shooting out
Smell where we live

Do not stand there
safe far away on the ramparts
of your paradise, watching

the fire and the iron
from heaven
Not ours

And after the rains appear
at night on the horizon
Autumn Clouds

Believing in a new world
for our children's children
and able to wait a long time

making plans
for the divine time
which now begins, with plan A, B, C

and D for Door
to the future
of a Holy Land

with reinforced concrete
and faits accomplis
house by house

field after field, well after well
plundered, contaminated or closed
military area, the dogs loose

at children herding goats
children going to school
children of blind and crippled people
children without parents
children who shouldn't be here

For keeps, the mountain is caught
in the stranglehold of the snake
and the city too, the whole country

Along the sea, its tail lashes
with thunders, craters of hellfire
into the earth, it roars and howls

fears of death into our breath at night
it shatters our grasshopper heads
on the cobblestones, each and every one

It doesn't like me, it only eats
the land on which I live, it encloses
and stuns me like a cockroach
that keeps sliding back in the bottle

and cannot escape from dreams
of lost freedom and the villages
wiped away and smoothed
by its long snake stomach

There is no land left for the dead
They are buried under our beds
Tell me, how can I sleep like this
waiting for a miracle
waiting for death?

Someone says I must cry
but what should I cry?
That grass withers and flowers
fall off, but promises remain
forever unbroken?

Don't give up
climb a high mountain and cry
to all hearts the suffering
is over, the injustice, the nails
that hit through our veins pin
us down, and the barbed wire
of segregation that separates us

Break down the blockages
level inequality and pave
a holy way in the wilderness!
cry! break the silence!

The neighbours have started
People like us
But they refuse
to be my neighbours, they smash
rockets in the school yard
I'm not afraid, I will die

That may seem bad
but it has to be so
They do the same
until we are expelled
grabbed by the neck
and thrown out

I want them to cry
for help, to wail for justice
and to beg for salvation
and I shall hear
and I shall see
and I shall remain silent

until they are dead

We create
a new world
with bombs
fear and blood
fire for a fire
debris for debris

We know
we will die
we have chosen to die
on the right side
where only warriors live

Friends and foes
have to pay
for our food
and the swords
that slaughter
the old world

Friday afternoon
we kneel in ar-Raqqa
and in the evening
we give thanks in Tel Aviv
it's a prostrated fight
prayer for a prayer

We have remained ourselves
from generation to generation
we live and lived with others
mutually apart

until we have to leave, in the end
there is still no place
where we are not strangers
where there are no strangers

For centuries, we have doubts
about our fate, wrestling
with The Name, we fight
for a safe home

We seek peace on The Mount
We drive out the new Philistines
who seek our lives
from the Lowlands

They die by the thousands
when their buildings collapse
No pillar remains standing
because only the land, this land

the whole land, the whole city
the whole mountain, everything
from the river to the sea
can ease our doubts

For centuries we lived with our cattle
between the cities, but now...
Who are we in this foreign land?
Who are we as unfree workers?

We want to go back and tell ourselves
in increasingly fantastic stories
that we belong together, stories
about a common past

That some of our ancestors
have been away once before
for 40 years, and exaggerated
their return with victories

as if they were thousands
having murdered even
greater numbers of people -
what they were proud of?

Oh, that country
we are homesick for
Should we actually
conquer it, should we

actually wash our hands
in the innocence of the old stories
and self-defense, do we want that?
Do we really want that?