And we were children at the school for the blind in Jerusalem,
Hiding in our toes
Pressing a cheek to a glass door
To hear the playing of your harp
Ephraim Manofla. Beyond alien corridors Like excited nightingales
Striking song with dazzlement.
You who promised great symphonies of love
What do you say now
As you beg a penny
With a broken three-stringed mandolin
At the Central Station in Tel Aviv,
- Erez Bfton