Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Gilad Meiri

JERUSALEM 2004

1.
On the rivers of asphalt
at Zion Square
traffic flows as usual.
There we sat in cafes,
only those
with a guard.

2.
Quiet bus bays,
and empty stores
like dusty aquariums.
White plastic bottle caps scattered like seashells
on the bottom of recycling bins.
On the asphalt shore
bare-shouldered boys sit
with bare-naveled girls.
A gust of wind wafts the scent
of sweet perfume and sun guard
over the city.
Metal detectors.
Hand baggage inspectors.
The sidewalks are ready to leap.

3.
In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
cypress roots rustle,
street cats mince their steps,
pilgrims stride in rubber sneakers
and sandals, heels tap and glasses
smash.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
the dull hum of Moslem horsemen
racing, half-tracks
quaking, buses
and the carts of the homeless
shaking.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
water bought from Turkey percolates
in Ottoman sewer lines.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
Crusader bones
crack
like antique furniture.

4.
In Jerusalem we walk
with shadows
under our soles.

5.
On the banks of the asphalt rivers
between the three chords of the City of David
Ben Yehuda
Yafo
and King George
we hung our lyres

ירושלים 2004

ירושלים 2004

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JERUSALEM 2004

1.
On the rivers of asphalt
at Zion Square
traffic flows as usual.
There we sat in cafes,
only those
with a guard.

2.
Quiet bus bays,
and empty stores
like dusty aquariums.
White plastic bottle caps scattered like seashells
on the bottom of recycling bins.
On the asphalt shore
bare-shouldered boys sit
with bare-naveled girls.
A gust of wind wafts the scent
of sweet perfume and sun guard
over the city.
Metal detectors.
Hand baggage inspectors.
The sidewalks are ready to leap.

3.
In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
cypress roots rustle,
street cats mince their steps,
pilgrims stride in rubber sneakers
and sandals, heels tap and glasses
smash.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
the dull hum of Moslem horsemen
racing, half-tracks
quaking, buses
and the carts of the homeless
shaking.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
water bought from Turkey percolates
in Ottoman sewer lines.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
Crusader bones
crack
like antique furniture.

4.
In Jerusalem we walk
with shadows
under our soles.

5.
On the banks of the asphalt rivers
between the three chords of the City of David
Ben Yehuda
Yafo
and King George
we hung our lyres

JERUSALEM 2004

1.
On the rivers of asphalt
at Zion Square
traffic flows as usual.
There we sat in cafes,
only those
with a guard.

2.
Quiet bus bays,
and empty stores
like dusty aquariums.
White plastic bottle caps scattered like seashells
on the bottom of recycling bins.
On the asphalt shore
bare-shouldered boys sit
with bare-naveled girls.
A gust of wind wafts the scent
of sweet perfume and sun guard
over the city.
Metal detectors.
Hand baggage inspectors.
The sidewalks are ready to leap.

3.
In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
cypress roots rustle,
street cats mince their steps,
pilgrims stride in rubber sneakers
and sandals, heels tap and glasses
smash.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
the dull hum of Moslem horsemen
racing, half-tracks
quaking, buses
and the carts of the homeless
shaking.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
water bought from Turkey percolates
in Ottoman sewer lines.

In the subterranean Jerusalem asphalt
Crusader bones
crack
like antique furniture.

4.
In Jerusalem we walk
with shadows
under our soles.

5.
On the banks of the asphalt rivers
between the three chords of the City of David
Ben Yehuda
Yafo
and King George
we hung our lyres
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Lira fonds
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