A child is something else again. Wakes up …
Yehuda Amichai
On summer nights I sleep naked …
They amputated …
My father built a great worry around me like a dock …
I …
In the middle of this century we turned to each other …
It's been a while since they asked, Who lives in between these …
We forget where we came from. Our Jewish …
Like our bodies' imprint …
Inside the brand-new museum …
On Friday, at twilight of a summer day …
Mr. Beringer, whose son …
On my desk there is a stone with the word “Amen” on it, …
I passed by the school where I studied as a boy …
Not the peace of a cease-fire, …