I Woke Up Crying
I cry for the beautiful land, that was green,
but is now black
I cry for the people, frightened,
fleeing from the flames
I cry for the students who have lost their schools,
and for their parents
who have lost their homes
I cry for the firemen, risking their lives.
I cry for the Yeshiva boys
who raced to save the small children in gan,*
and returned to save their belongings,
only to see the building in flames,
their books turning to ashes.
I cry for the firemen,
making their way through the smoke and heat
to save the sifrei Torah
as the aron** that housed them
I cry for the beautiful animals
the deer, the salamanders, the vultures,
breeding and preparing to live wild again.
Where will they go now?
I cry for those who hate so much
they would rather destroy the land
that they claim to love
than see others take care of it
I cry for the land itself,
for the longing of centuries
that returned its people
to reclaim it,
to nurture it,
to make it bloom again,
to love it,
to see it destroyed,
its green turned to ash,
blackened by hatred.
I cry that my tears are not enough
to drench the parched earth,
to douse the flames,
to extinguish the hate.
Yehudit Rose in Israel
** Torah ark