Great poetry doesn't necessarily get made out of important subjects. But this is an urgent subject, and the poems address it eloquently. War-weariness, piercing sadness, hope. I don't know. Even the wastebaskets are small, made for holding tissue paper that wrapped flowers from the store.
Cemeteries are a polite and disciplined thing.
I guess so. May ye find consolation in the building of the homeland. Yes, all of this is sorrow. But leave a little love burning always like the small bulb in the room of a sleeping baby that gives him a bit of security and quiet love though he doesn't know what the light is or where it comes from. This translation from the Hebrew is by Chana Bloch.