Let us sing praise to the Holy Weapons!
To the humble stone, that can crack a skull.
Let us thank the iron poles that break limbs,
the burning tyres whose smoke gives us cover.

Praise Allah for the simple fire-bombs
which cause destruction and mayhem,
let us not forget the obstacles of flaming cars
which give us time to run from enemy tanks.

Praise the the humble, simple bullet
and the pistol and rifles that go with it.
They maim, they kill, they destroy the opponent:
such small jewels of beauty, precious as gold.

Our landmines which kill hundreds, some innocent
perhaps, but we have the godgiven right to defense!
The dynamite vests on our immortal martyrs
who take out whole busloads of foes at a time.

Our rockets which reach deep within the false country
which inflame their tempers, make them scream revenge.
But we, we have Allah. He will not leave us, he provides,
food, water, weapons and the will to lay down our lives.

Let us sing praise to the Holy Weapons!
As long as we have them, we will not retreat.
They cannot kill us, and every next generation
is taught the same hatred, will die like martyrs, Inshallah.

P.S.: Ja, ik ben Joods, en dús geen antisemiet. Arabieren en Joden zijn broedervolken. Ja, ik ben Israëli, maar het niet eens met de standpunten van de radicale extremisten – niet die aan de kant van de Joden en niet die aan de kant van de Arabieren. Ik heb dit geschreven naar aanleiding van een speech die ik uitgesproken hoorde door een met zijn gezicht in een rode zogenaamde ‘Arafat-sjaal’ gehuld Hamas-lid. En nee, ik heb net zo min als alle specialisten en knappe koppen en bemiddelaars van de wereld een oplossing voor dit afschuwelijke probleem.

After midnight

Sleep, my god of north and south,
stop eluding me. Come hither
and seduce my senses:
make my eyes see the impossible,
pierce my ears with softly spoken words,
let me smell my eternal past,
have me touched by a thousand hands
and let me taste his mouth again.

You and I will go running in the desert,
the dry sand slipping beneath our feet,
we will be entangled in green tropics
and not have to hold our breath in the sea.
We will see brutal events, not to be repeated,
we will wallow in the love of a man we don’t know,
we will ride horses bareback through the city
and when alpha ends, omega will be ready.

Sleep, my god, don’t elude me.
Come hither. Seduce me.
Take me, north, south – but take me.