TAL ACHER - SONGS OF DIFFERENCES

All rights reserved by the author, October 2006.

SONG OF DESPAIR

I dug in the graveyards

of history

and awaked

by critics of calculators.

I ate from the cakes

of correctness

and found myself

spat out by redefinators.

I dressed in the clothes

of tolerance

and then pilled

my mouth with explanations.

I drank from the waters

of dialogue

and emerged

as a woman of confrontations.

SONG OF HOPE

I am for my loved ones

and my loved ones are for me.

We saw the song of silence,

we heard the salt of the sea.

We touched the moon on Haifa,

we rode the dark of the sun,

we locked away our traces

and the tears of everyone.

We swallowed the swords of bitterness,

we watered the flames of hate,

we sank in the green of mercy then,

we flew on the clouds of fate.

We met in the gold of Jerusalem

to be free for eternity.

Yes, I am for my loved ones,

and my loved ones are for me.

SONGS FOR SOME EUROPEAN MINDS

1)

You don't owe me nothing.

Your fathers stole from my fathers,

their properties, their pride.

But you gave me democracy

and rules to tolerate everything,

political correctness.

No, you don't owe me nothing.

You don't owe me nothing.

Your fathers burnt my fathers

just for their names and traditions.

But you gave me excuses

and advices how to keep peace

with my enemies.

No, you don't owe me nothing.

You don't owe me nothing.

You wonder why I am suspicious

and still keep my gun and awareness.

You gave me the right of existance.

Now, since they bomb and burn me,

again it is my fault.

No, you don't owe me nothing.

2)

They say it was too far to go

from here to the hills of Megiddo,

and that I should have better seen

the endless sea,

all the walls they put between.

Oh, Europe, you are teasing me

as if I was really your enemy,

you blame my roots and blame my heart,

my restless mind

on the things you took apart.

When disproportion is my style,

I really can't stand your selfish smile.

You are so shocked, you are so wise,

a moralist, a democrat

or a devil in disguise.

I claim for fairness and you say

that we fallen angels must not pray.

There is no time to hesitate,

my sense is fight

and my heart is full of hate.

So tell me where I am to go

from here to hell or to Megiddo?

They took my parent's lives away

to please you.

There is nothing left to say.