What are
You doing,
Israel?
This is not
the way.
I hate
the hate
that forced
you to
this state.
This
is not
the way.
Babies?
Who can tell
their nationality?
They look
the same
to me.
Does not a
Jew bleed?
Or innocents
of any stripe?
Those babies
look the same
to me.
This is not
the way,
oh Israel.
You win
the War.
Yet lose
the Peace.
And what
rough beast
have You,
oh Israel,
unleashed?
Oseh shalom bim 'romav
hu ya 'aseh shalom.
Oh, Israel.
I pray
for you.
The babies
look the same
to me.
Amein.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem