Yehuda Amichai (1959)
On a roof in the Old City
Laundry hanging in the late afternoon sunlight:
The white sheet of a woman who is my enemy,
The towel of a man who is my enemy,
To wipe off the sweat of his brow
In the sky of the Old City
A kite.
At the other end of the string,
A child
I can’t see
because of the wall.
We have put up many flags
They have put up many flags
To make us think that they’re happy
To make them think that we’re happy.
