So how about a different strategy?
Let’s place the walls on top of each other
maybe if we build upwards…
Sound familiar?
By SOLLY KAPLINSKIPrime Minister Yitzhak Rabin (right) and Foreign Minister Shimon Peres wave to a huge crowd at the peace rally on November 4, 1995.(photo credit: HAVAKUK LEVISON / REUTERS)On November 4, Israel marks the 24th anniversary of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination. On that night in 1995, Rabin was shot by Yigal Amir after attending a peace rally in Tel Aviv at Kikar Malchei Yisrael (Kings of Israel Square), now called Rabin Square, that features a memorial wall (kotel) at the site. Solly Kaplinski penned the following poem in Rabin’s memory.LOST IN LAST RESPECTSI went to pay my last respectsto light candlesto mourn a member ofmy extended familyYitzhakFirst to Kikar Rabinwhere it happenedand then to Har Herzlwhere he restsThe kotel at the squareis an open sorefilled with pain and anger and anguish and griefa raw woundpublicly exposed for all to seeA kotel that wails family tearsOn the cold wet slab of concretewhere his dying breath is engravedas I lit a candle and stood dumbstruckI saw my father on his deathbedand I criedI saw Cain slaughter Abeland I trembledI saw a son murder his fatherand I screamedI saw beating heartsthrobbing and pulsatingtorn outhismineyoursoursgorged with bloodand I broke downAt the Keverin Jerusalemat duskteenagers sit quietlystaring at the flickering flameswriting with dripping hot waxAbbaWe long for you.The kikar kotelhow different from the Jerusalem Kotelwith organized minyanimand prescribed prayers forpast sorrowspresent promisesandfuture glories in the world to comeand crumpled notes stuffed into narrow spaces –private, personal, silent and closedLet’s suppose we could join these two wallsHumor me for a momentEven if you tell me thatcursive+script=gibberishLet’s lift up these walls and place them side by sideto form a square or rectangleHow then do we fill the spaces in between?And even if we couldhow do we pierce the walls that surround the heart?How do we gently lower the drawbridgeacross the moat?One doesn’t need a doctor to tell us thatif we push too hard we kill the patientThese walls can’t fit!Can the cool, clear and shimmering sweet watershuggingly caressthe heat baked bloody clay?Does the taste of soilquench a hungry appetite?Can it sustain a life support system?So how about a different strategy?Let’s place the walls on top of each othermaybe if we build upwards…Sound familiar?So do we start all over again?Is this how it all ends?Dust to dust?And still they comeAnd still they writeAnd still they light candlesAnd still they stand in silence and still they place stonesAnd still the mournfor Yitzhakfor themselvesfor usWill it ever end?Only ifpeople who speak different languagespeople who tell different storiespeople who live different historiespeople who sing different songsand people who pray different prayerscry out loudand with convictionYou are my brother and I love you
