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More poems by Yehuda AmichaiYehuda Amichai | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Yehuda AmichaiBooks by Yehuda Amichai

Wildpeace

Yehuda Amichai

Not the peace of a cease-fire
not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb,
but rather
as in the heart when the excitement is over
and you can talk only about a great weariness.
I know that I know how to kill, that makes me an adult.
And my son plays with a toy gun that knows
how to open and close its eyes and say Mama.
A peace
without the big noise of beating swords into ploughshares,
without words, without
the thud of the heavy rubber stamp: let it be
light, floating, like lazy white foam.
A little rest for the wounds - who speaks of healing?
(And the howl of the orphans is passed from one generation
to the next, as in a relay race:
the baton never falls.)

Let it come
like wildflowers,
suddenly, because the field
must have it: wildpeace.


Translated by Chana Bloch

Added: 9 Jan 2002 | Last Read: 17 Jan 2018 5:03 PM | Viewed: 9563 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/2177/ | Viewed on 17 January 2018.
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