If the Olive Trees knew the hands that planted them, Their Oil would become Tears.

Poetry is perhaps what teaches us to nurture the charming illusion: how to be reborn out of ourselves over and over again, and use words to construct a better world, a fictitious world that enables us to sign a pact for a permanent and comprehensive peace ... with life.

May poetry and God's name have mercy on us!

Against barbarity, poetry can resist only by confirming its attachment to human fragility like a blade of grass growing on a wall while armies march by.

History laughs at both the victim and the aggressor.

I am not a lover of Israel, of course. I have no reason to be. But I don't hate Jews.

The days have taught you not to trust happiness because it hurts when it deceives.