From
the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The
place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
Yehuda Amichai
