I write in the Hebrew language
which is not my mother tongue, to
lose myself in the world. He who doesn’t
get lost, will never find the whole.
Because everyone has the same
toes. Left big toe
by right heel.

And sometimes I write Hebrew
to cool the blood that spurts
endlessly from my heart. It’s always like that.
There are many treasures
in the coffer I have built in my chest.
But the colors of the night that was spread
over exposed walls, peel
without ever knowing what
all this wonder is.

And I write Hebrew, to
get lost in my words, and also to find
a bit of interest for my footsteps.
I have not stopped walking. Many paths
have I traveled. Engraved by my hands.
I shall take my feet in hand
and meet many people. And make them all
my friends. Who is foreign? Who far, who near?
There is no strangeness in the ways of the world.
Because strangeness, mostly,
lies in man’s heart.