Perfumes, Colors

Image by Denis Collette...!!! via Flickr

Some time ago, in another life, I used to write. Poems, newspaper articles, a book. Yes, I did write a book. It is about Israel, about its past and present. I also published a book with poems, mainly about Israel.
Some time ago...
This is one of the poems that was published.




perfumes, colors...

israel.
that's all.
israel. here. inside me.
for ever


love. sprouting in my soul
as feeble blades of grass after the first rain of winter.

flowers. growing crazily
on the road's side
yellow, like the eyes of the judeean lion.

oranges. hidden in tress
and kibbutznicks
playing side and seek with them.


love

perfumes. colors. noises
the music
in mahane iehuda market in jerusalem
the beduins' white kaffiahs
the arabs' burning eyes
the smile of israeli kids.


love

jesus's grave
jordan's water
mount of olives
and the nice bus driver
that takes me to the sion gate


the sky. always blue
and an unexpected quick autumn rain.
the waves of the sea
a ship's long cry waiting to enter
the harbour.

love
hidden in a silvery shell


the fish market in jaffo
the greyish shinny bellies
of the fish tossing on the pavement.


the tower of a minaret
the mosque with its golden dome
the bones of some ancestors
Mount Hertzl
and the burning candles in Rabin Square.

explosion
the young dead
the old ones begging
at street corners - lonely trumpets


love. worthy more than twelve shekels

the silence growing on streets
shabat
the candels of Hanuka
the tents for Succot
the old rabbi
the prayer shawls over the eyes
that couldn't watch naked shoulders.

the wailing wall
carressing the corners of polished stones
by other caresses

love.

the hot sand over the soul
during chamsin
the prayer in betlehem
rachel's tomb
the red thread worn to protect


museums
where steps walk between past and present
people like statues
or the other way round
love.


ethiopian jews
dark mosaics
sephards chanting in ladino
all the languages in this
babel tower of broken promises


the green leaves of trees
the fruit of the cacti
hard on the outside and soft - in.


love
on the crowded streets of tel aviv
lost between narrow alleys in mea shearim
floating on dead's sea salted water
drinking from a waterfall in ein ghedi
walking on the desert's red rocks
whispering a prayer at king david's tomb
wandering through the corals in eilat
crying, forgotten in a mezuza on the door's frame
lost in a verse from the bible.