Yehuda Amichai

Yehuda Amichai

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Yehuda Amichai (3 May 1924 – 22 September 2000) was an Israeli poet. Amichai is considered, both in Israel and internationally, as Israel's greatest modern poet, and one of the leading poets worldwide.
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Visits of condolence is all we get from them
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing
And they laugh behind heavy
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Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west,
Latin writing, from west to east
Languages are like cats:
You must not stroke their hair the wrong way
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All night the army came up from
To get to the killing field, and that's all
In the ground, warf and woof, lay the dead
I want to die in My own bed
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The little park planted in memory of a boywho fell in the war begins to resemble himas he was twenty eight years ago
Year by year they look more alike
His old parents come almost dailyto sit on a benchand look at him
And every night...
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My child wafts peace
When I lean over him,
It is not just the smell of soap
All the people were children wafting peace
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If I forget thee,
Jerusalem,
Then let my right be forgotten
Let my right be forgotten, and my left remember
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Do not accept these rains that come too late
Better to linger
Make your
An image of the desert
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Yad Mordechai
Those who fell herestill look out the windows like sick childrenwho are not allowed outside to play
And on the hillside, the battle is reenactedfor the benefit of hikers and tourists
Soldiers of thin sheet ironrise and...
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I don't Know if history repeats
But I do know that you don't
I remember that city was didvided Not only between Jews and Arabs,
But Between me and you,
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Mr
Beringer, whose sonfell at the Canal that strangers dugso ships could cross the desert,crosses my path at Jaffa Gate
He has grown very thin, has lostthe weight of his son
That's why he floats so lightly in the alleysand gets caug...
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The first rain reminds
Of the rising summer dust
The rain doesn't remember the rain of yesteryear
A year is a trained beast with no memories
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I have become very hairy all over my body
I'm afraid they'll start hunting me because of my fur
My multicolored shirt has no meaning of love —it looks like an air photo of a railway station
At night my body is open and awake under t...
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They amputated Your thighs from my waist
For me they are always Surgeons
All of them
They dismantled us One from another
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On a roof in the Old
Laundry hanging in the late afternoon sunlight:
The white sheet of a woman who is my enemy,
The towel of a man who is my enemy,
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Memorial day for the war dead
Add nowthe grief of all your losses to their grief,even of a woman that has left you
Mixsorrow with sorrow, like time-saving history,which stacks holiday and sacrifice and mourningon one day for easy, conven...
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A night drive to Ein Yahav in the Arava Desert,a drive in the rain
Yes, in the rain
There I met people who grow date palms,there I saw tamarisk trees and risk trees,there I saw hope barbed as barbed wire
And I said to myself:
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