I recently posted a piece on how horrified I am with events, despite my understanding of the need for the war to be fought and for Hezbollah to be seriously damaged.
Then the IAF destroyed a house in Qana, killing 37 children and another 20 or so others. (Update: Actually only 28 people were killed in the bombing. Typical Lebanese government exaggeration and anti-Israel Western press bias. Meh. Same idea.)
Something like this incident was bound to happen eventually, in an air campaign of this scale. I am not going to get into details of whether the IAF should have been more careful (if that was even possible), or whether Israel should further limit the scope of its air strikes. That's being debated endlessly by the rest of the world to little effect. The simple truth is that no matter how many civilians were killed in the bombing, Hezbollah is certainly not going to suddenly stop firing rockets if Israel stops bombing Lebanon... so the conflict will continue until Hezbollah's ability to launch significant rocket barrages at Israel is neutered. What I want to discuss instead is why Israel had to bomb a building inside Qana in the first place.
Some 150 Katyushas have been launched at Israel from Qana. Most of the other villages subjected to direct IAF raids have similarly been used as launch sites against Israeli targets - effectively using the entire village as a giant cover for their activities. This is not supposition... this is fact, confirmed by Lebanese sources. What is more worrying is that this is often being done against the wishes of the population living in the village. Several cases have so far come out there Christian villages were used as cover for rocket launches, even launching from churches and the like (targets Israel is loath to destroy). Even in Shia towns, much of the populace may not enjoy the inevitable IAF retribution, and certainly wouldn't like Hezbollah putting weapons caches and bunker entrances in mosques.
Put simply, Hezbollah is holding far more than two Israeli soldiers hostage, but all of southern Lebanon. Israel can't hit Hezbollah positions without also hitting civilian targets - even in ground attacks (if most of the residents of the villages under IDF ground attack had not left ahead of time, the civilian casualties from being caught in the crossfire would have been truly horrific). This situation leads me to two questions:
1) How can Israel - claiming to fight moral and ethical wars - protect 1-2 million of its own citizens from harm while minimizing the civilian casualties? The bombing of Qana was just the latest and biggest of the IAF's unacceptable collateral damage. Is there a way to do this? This is not something to curry international favor, or even to make me feel better about the war. It's a measure needed for Israel's own soul.
2) Lebanon is aware of what Hezbollah is doing. Most of them are pissed about it. In fact, most of them didn't like Hezbollah much before the war, either. So why is Hezbollah still there? Is it just fear of starting another civil war? Needing 'striking power' against Israel? Why don't the people of Lebanon finally get rid of this... parasite... that is using them as a shield against IDF attacks?
I think the answers to these questions are really part of one concept. Lebanon needs to get rid of Hezbollah. Israel can weaken them... even kill most of them (though the cost in civilian casualties would be ridiculously high)... but it cannot remove Hezbollah from Lebanon. The people in Lebanese villages need to tell Hezbollah, "No! You may not use our village to store weapons, or to attack Israel, or to house your fighters. You cannot use us any more." Yes, Hezbollah has guns and organization. But they're a handful of thousands against the will of four million people. They cannot win such a conflict, if Syria is restrained from intervening.
How can this be achieved? Well, I'm not sure. Israel can't pull out under Hezbollah fire, or else the Lebanese people will view Hezbollah as their saviors. I hope that Israel can carry out more careful strikes (and more significant ground attacks, despite the horrific and inevitable casualties on both sides) to seriously destroy Hezbollah's 'infrastructure' in southern Lebanon. Then, if Israel withdraws (while keeping a warning eye on Syria), the Lebanese people need to use that moment to throw Hezbollah out of their country. The organization will be seriously weakened, and most of their fighters scattered and ill-supplied. It will be a golden opportunity.
Somehow, though, I'm doubtful that Lebanon will take advantage of this opportunity. It simply won't happen. I don't know why, so I don't know how it can be changed.
We need some brave Lebanese to take a stand... to unite against a predator that is destroying their society and country, time and time again. The 'cedar revolution' of last year gives me some hope that this is possible... but something needs to be done to spark this event. Only then can this senseless slaughter conceivably end.
Suggestions?
24.7.06
Despite this, I actually have friends
As many of my readers may know or suspect, I am not always very adept at handling social situations. I've always felt that there is far too much uncertainty and far too many unknown variables in most social interactions. To be honest, most social occasions have always felt like an inefficient waste of time, and I've always been keenly suspicious of those who enjoy themselves and find social interactions 'natural'.
*coughs* Wow, reading that paragraph makes me sound like a complete introvert. While many of you may think that as a result I must be an exceedingly awkward, quiet person, this is in fact not the case. Over the years, I learned that there are a set of rules that one can fall back on as a default setting in social gatherings: manners. So, upshot is that I've become a very polite person on the surface, but when anyone gets to know me, they realize that deep down (or not-so-deep down) I'm an asshole. Oh, well.
Anyways, I've ingrained 'polite' responses and actions into myself so deeply that I don't even notice I do them any more. Sometimes this can lead to embarrassment, such as the following scenario.
Many times when people greet me they say, 'Hello, wiggin, how are you!' And my inevitable response is, 'Hey! I'm doing fine, how are you?' It's polite, simple, and allows the other individual to decide whether to (a) have a longer conversation, or (b) keep walking. Leaving such decisions out of my hands is the cornerstone of my strategy for social situations - keep the other person talking, and let them steer the coversation (of course, this all disappears as soon as I get to know someone, but meh).
Unfortunately, sometimes people instead greet me with 'Hello, wiggin!' I then get into trouble when I automatically say 'Hey! I'm doing fine...'
*hangs head* Yes, volunteering such banal information has become a reflex. It invariably causes the other person to do a double take - either ignoring the non sequitur or listening to me further make a fool of myself by saying, 'Uh, I guess you actually didn't ask how I was doing, and I just volunteered the information. Never mind.'
And that's why I like machines more than people.
*coughs* Wow, reading that paragraph makes me sound like a complete introvert. While many of you may think that as a result I must be an exceedingly awkward, quiet person, this is in fact not the case. Over the years, I learned that there are a set of rules that one can fall back on as a default setting in social gatherings: manners. So, upshot is that I've become a very polite person on the surface, but when anyone gets to know me, they realize that deep down (or not-so-deep down) I'm an asshole. Oh, well.
Anyways, I've ingrained 'polite' responses and actions into myself so deeply that I don't even notice I do them any more. Sometimes this can lead to embarrassment, such as the following scenario.
Many times when people greet me they say, 'Hello, wiggin, how are you!' And my inevitable response is, 'Hey! I'm doing fine, how are you?' It's polite, simple, and allows the other individual to decide whether to (a) have a longer conversation, or (b) keep walking. Leaving such decisions out of my hands is the cornerstone of my strategy for social situations - keep the other person talking, and let them steer the coversation (of course, this all disappears as soon as I get to know someone, but meh).
Unfortunately, sometimes people instead greet me with 'Hello, wiggin!' I then get into trouble when I automatically say 'Hey! I'm doing fine...'
*hangs head* Yes, volunteering such banal information has become a reflex. It invariably causes the other person to do a double take - either ignoring the non sequitur or listening to me further make a fool of myself by saying, 'Uh, I guess you actually didn't ask how I was doing, and I just volunteered the information. Never mind.'
And that's why I like machines more than people.
21.7.06
That terrible knock on the door
Have you ever had something go seriously, terribly wrong in your life? And do you remember that feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach when you first had an inkling that something horrible might have happened, but you didn't know for sure yet?
I'm not talking about losing your keys here. I know that this feeling has only happened to me once in my life, and it was one too many times. It is a feeling of utter helplessness - a feeling where you know, deep down, that something terrible has happened... but you aren't quite willing to admit it to yourself yet until you had proof. It is the world crashing down around your ears, a signal that your life has irrevocably changed, for the worse.
Today, at least five Israeli families around the country received the worst news imaginable. Their young, vibrant, dedicated sons and brothers had been killed - one in a helicopter crash, the other four in a pitched battle with entrenched Hezbollah forces in southern Lebanon (Note: details are still a bit sketchy; will change the numbers/details if things are updated).
These families must have been watching the news as reports came in of heavy fighting in the north. They probably didn't want to watch the news, but couldn't tear themselves away. They knew that Yonatan or Micha or Noam were in the north, probably involved in the fighting. They knew. And so the mothers and fathers of these young men sat there, glued to the television and radio, hands on their mouths, with a feeling deep in the pit of their stomach. A feeling of helplessness, that would not go away.
And then, each of these five families had their worst fears confirmed. An IDF officer came to each home to tell them the news. Perhaps they saw the car park and the officer slowly walk up to their door. Perhaps, instead, their first confirmation was a careful knock on the door. Around the country today, five families heard the words of, "I am sorry but I have some terrible news for you. Your son is dead."
And around the country, a hundred - no, a thousand other families heaved a sigh of relief that at least it wasn't their son. The feeling is tempered by grief for the other families - for all of Israel is a family - and they probably feel just the slightest bit guilty that at least it happened to someone else.
This elaborate scenario is playing out on a nearly daily basis. The one time I had that feeling in my life was nearly unbearable. Imagine having this feeling every single day while this business continues. Have you seen the parents of Israeli combat soldiers while their sons are away on duty? These mothers and fathers continually worry - they can't help themselves. They age prematurely.
What is even more heartbreaking is the families who simply don't know - and may never know. I cannot get Noam Shalit's quiet, pained face out of my head. Nor can I forget the heartbreaking letter his family wrote in the hopes their son might be allowed to see it.
How can this end?
I'm not talking about losing your keys here. I know that this feeling has only happened to me once in my life, and it was one too many times. It is a feeling of utter helplessness - a feeling where you know, deep down, that something terrible has happened... but you aren't quite willing to admit it to yourself yet until you had proof. It is the world crashing down around your ears, a signal that your life has irrevocably changed, for the worse.
Today, at least five Israeli families around the country received the worst news imaginable. Their young, vibrant, dedicated sons and brothers had been killed - one in a helicopter crash, the other four in a pitched battle with entrenched Hezbollah forces in southern Lebanon (Note: details are still a bit sketchy; will change the numbers/details if things are updated).
These families must have been watching the news as reports came in of heavy fighting in the north. They probably didn't want to watch the news, but couldn't tear themselves away. They knew that Yonatan or Micha or Noam were in the north, probably involved in the fighting. They knew. And so the mothers and fathers of these young men sat there, glued to the television and radio, hands on their mouths, with a feeling deep in the pit of their stomach. A feeling of helplessness, that would not go away.
And then, each of these five families had their worst fears confirmed. An IDF officer came to each home to tell them the news. Perhaps they saw the car park and the officer slowly walk up to their door. Perhaps, instead, their first confirmation was a careful knock on the door. Around the country today, five families heard the words of, "I am sorry but I have some terrible news for you. Your son is dead."
And around the country, a hundred - no, a thousand other families heaved a sigh of relief that at least it wasn't their son. The feeling is tempered by grief for the other families - for all of Israel is a family - and they probably feel just the slightest bit guilty that at least it happened to someone else.
This elaborate scenario is playing out on a nearly daily basis. The one time I had that feeling in my life was nearly unbearable. Imagine having this feeling every single day while this business continues. Have you seen the parents of Israeli combat soldiers while their sons are away on duty? These mothers and fathers continually worry - they can't help themselves. They age prematurely.
What is even more heartbreaking is the families who simply don't know - and may never know. I cannot get Noam Shalit's quiet, pained face out of my head. Nor can I forget the heartbreaking letter his family wrote in the hopes their son might be allowed to see it.
How can this end?
20.7.06
And now something less morbidly depressing...
...I'll try to take the edge off of that last post with a short joke my girlfriend coined (though I'm sure hundreds of other people have, too):
What's a pirate's favorite amino acid?
Arrrrr-ginine.
*bows* Yes, I know, I'm a regular wit.
What's a pirate's favorite amino acid?
Arrrrr-ginine.
*bows* Yes, I know, I'm a regular wit.
Wiggin becomes a peacenik
Many of my readers have undoubtedly been wondering where I've been for the last few weeks. After all, I normally intersperse my normal posts with attempted analyses of crises in Israel... and the ongoing situation in Lebanon and Gaza seem to fit the bill rather nicely. Yet I've tried to stay away from blogging on the issue (particularly Lebanon) as it is being discussed to death on the internet. I normally try to present some slightly new idea in my analysis, but I honestly haven't had any.
Oh, I can still tell you about the crisis in exhaustive detail. I could explain to you why Hezbollah's unprovoked attacks were aided and abetted (both directly and indirectly) by elements of the Lebanese government. I could talk about differences between intentionally targeting civilians and unintentional civilian deaths as a result of collateral damage. We could discuss about the care and precision with which the IAF has been hitting targets, and their considerable successes with relatively few civilian casualties for an air war of this size against an enemy entrenched in the midst of civilian populations. I could talk myself blue in the face saying the same things that have been said everywhere else... heck, if I wanted to, I could even take the Lebanese side and exhaustively detail their arguments.
But I won't. I've spent too much time elsewhere doing exactly this, and far too much time reading other media/blogs/forums discussing these same issues. Do you know why? Because, while I do believe all of that stuff, I think it is irrelevant. On my blog, I feel I can share with you what I really think about the situation devoid of political sentiment, of the need to explain to the world about Israel's actions.
This war sickens me.
All this death, all this suffering, all this pain... it's just senseless. It didn't need to happen. No one wants this war, with the exception of Syria and Hezbollah. Not the Lebanese people, their government, the world... and certainly not the Israelis.
This is not a war about land, or holy sites, or refugees, or settlements, or any of the other issues that complicate the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It is not a war that can even be won, really. At best, Israel can destroy much of Hezbollah, but they will always be able to get resupply and new recruits. This war happened for the simple reason that Hezbollah and Syria could not leave well enough alone, and because Lebanon was too weak to stop them.
I'm not suggesting that Israel should have done nothing in the face of a blatant act of war and a clear and present danger to its civilian population - far from it. I just wish that there was some... sense, some logic to all of this mess.
Even more so, I wish there was a clean way to fight this war. Bloody as they were, I would almost prefer something like the Israeli-Egyptian front in the Sinai in years past - a combat zone relatively free of civilians, where countries settled irreconcilable differences on a battlefield. I won't romanticize the horror of those wars, but at least they aren't as... dirtying as this one.
The world has been second-guessing Israel's particular military actions in the last week. They allege that some of the attacks against infrastructure were merely punitive and not strategic in nature, that Israel is attacking civilians indiscriminately (or at the very least attacking without a great deal of regard for civilian losses), and that the IDF response has no chance of actually damaging Hezbollah, but merely hurts the Lebanese people (for fairness, I'll mention that others have attributed clear strategic and tactical necessity to nearly all of Israel's actions).
I think this analysis is a bit harsh, but I do have my own doubts. *steeples fingers in thought* It is not right that this war must be fought in a manner that causes so much damage and loss of life. I'll freely admit that the Lebanese people are not quite all victims in this fight, and that it was their responsibility to rein in Hezbollah (regardless of the threat of a civil war). But regardless, this level of suffering and destruction is simply horrible. I don't feel that moral equivalency arguments can work here. So what if Haifa and Natzeret and Tzfat and T'veriah have been under attack? Yes, that demands a response - but not an equal response, rather a response that will actually stop the attacks (whatever that is).
Yes, yes. I've made the arguments myself - about how Hezbollah is hiding behind civilians, blah blah blah. The arguments aren't wrong... it's just that rationalizations and 'ends justify the means' arguments are demeaning to Israel and to the Jewish people. Golda Meir had it spot on: "We can forgive you for killing our sons. But we will never forgive you for making us kill yours." This continual... slaughter... is not something the Jewish State is supposed to be engaged in, justified or not.
I honestly don't know what can be done. I hope most fervently that Israel has done everything in its power to look at other options before continuing on this bloodbath. I wish that the Lebanese people had done everything in theirs to keep this from happening, and that the rest of the world had put more pressure on Syria and Iran to keep things quiet. Oh, I wish, I wish.
Where will this end? I don't know. Perhaps Israel will have to take the war to Syria (some suggest they should have done so a long time ago)... initiating more bloodshed, but hopefully mostly against the military and government, and not suburbs of Damascus. Perhaps the world can step in and finally do away with Hezbollah. Or perhaps Lebanon can come to an agreement with Israel where they unite together to get rid of foreign-supported militias in their borders. Who knows? Unfortunately, what seems most likely is that Hezbollah will be seriously damaged (after a long, protracted, bloody war), and things will go back to their status quo.
*sighs* It's times like these when I am reminded of the words of hope that others have said in other trying circumstances. I have a dream... That magnificent poetry from Martin Luther King, Jr. conveys a beautiful image. It conveys a world without chains, without boundaries, a world without senseless strife... a world where people can live together in recognition of the things that make us all the same and in celebration of the things that make us different.
I have a dream... that someday, Israel and Lebanon will live side by side in harmony. Vacationers from Tel-Aviv will relax on Beirut's beaches, and Beirut denizens on Tel-Aviv's. Northern Israel and southern Lebanon will live in peace and quiet, cultivating their farmland and tourists with equal fervor, making the landscape green and beautiful to cover the scars of war. There won't be a 'border fence' patrolled by heavily armed Israeli soldiers, but rather an open border 'patrolled' by friendly neighbors helping each other build a better future. I have a dream that Lebanon and Israel "will be transformed into a situation where little Israeli boys and Israeli girls will be able to join hands with little Lebanese boys and Lebanese girls and walk together as sisters and brothers." Someday... someday.
We need to find a way that ensures the safety of our people yet at the same time does not compromise the principles of that same people. We need to find the majority of good people in each of our enemy's populaces and cultivate them, building unbreakable bonds of trust and loyalty and peace. We need... to make the world a better place, rather than adding to chaos and strife.
I'll leave you with a thought from another poet who dreamed of peace:
אני מביט מהחלון
וזה עושה לי די עצוב
האביב חלף עבר לו
מי יודע אם ישוב
הליצן נהיה למלך
הנביא נהיה ליצן
ושכחתי את הדרך
אבל אני עוד כאן
פזמון:
יהיה טוב
יהיה טוב כן
לפעמים אני נשבר
אז הלילה הו הלילה
איתך אני נשאר
ילדים לובשים כנפיים
ועפים אל הצבא
ואחרי שנתיים
הם חוזרים ללא תשובה
אנשים חיים במתח
מחפשים סיבה לנשום
ובין שנאה לרצח
מדברים על השלום
פזמון
שם למעלה בשמים
עננים לומדים לעוף
ואני מביט למעלה
ורואה מטוס חטוף
ממשלות וגנרלים
מחלקים לנו את הנוף
לשלהם ולשלנו
מתי נראה ת'סוף
הנה בא נשיא מצרים
איך שמחנו לקראתו
פירמידות בעיניים
ושלום במקטרתו
ואמרנו בוא נשלימה
ונחיה כמו אחים
ואז הוא אמר קדימה
רק תצאו מהשטחים
פזמון
עוד נלמד לחיות ביחד
בין חורשות עצי זיתים
ילדים יחיו בלי פחד
בלי גבולות בלי מקלטים
על קברים יפרח העשב
לשלום ואהבה
מאה שנים של חרב
ועוד לא, לא אבדה התקווה
That last stanza can be roughly translated as:
We will yet learn to live together
Between the lines of olive trees
Children will live without fear
Without borders, without boundaries
On the graves grass will grow
To peace and love
[After] one hundred years of the sword
We have not yet - not yet lost the hope...
Oh, I can still tell you about the crisis in exhaustive detail. I could explain to you why Hezbollah's unprovoked attacks were aided and abetted (both directly and indirectly) by elements of the Lebanese government. I could talk about differences between intentionally targeting civilians and unintentional civilian deaths as a result of collateral damage. We could discuss about the care and precision with which the IAF has been hitting targets, and their considerable successes with relatively few civilian casualties for an air war of this size against an enemy entrenched in the midst of civilian populations. I could talk myself blue in the face saying the same things that have been said everywhere else... heck, if I wanted to, I could even take the Lebanese side and exhaustively detail their arguments.
But I won't. I've spent too much time elsewhere doing exactly this, and far too much time reading other media/blogs/forums discussing these same issues. Do you know why? Because, while I do believe all of that stuff, I think it is irrelevant. On my blog, I feel I can share with you what I really think about the situation devoid of political sentiment, of the need to explain to the world about Israel's actions.
This war sickens me.
All this death, all this suffering, all this pain... it's just senseless. It didn't need to happen. No one wants this war, with the exception of Syria and Hezbollah. Not the Lebanese people, their government, the world... and certainly not the Israelis.
This is not a war about land, or holy sites, or refugees, or settlements, or any of the other issues that complicate the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It is not a war that can even be won, really. At best, Israel can destroy much of Hezbollah, but they will always be able to get resupply and new recruits. This war happened for the simple reason that Hezbollah and Syria could not leave well enough alone, and because Lebanon was too weak to stop them.
I'm not suggesting that Israel should have done nothing in the face of a blatant act of war and a clear and present danger to its civilian population - far from it. I just wish that there was some... sense, some logic to all of this mess.
Even more so, I wish there was a clean way to fight this war. Bloody as they were, I would almost prefer something like the Israeli-Egyptian front in the Sinai in years past - a combat zone relatively free of civilians, where countries settled irreconcilable differences on a battlefield. I won't romanticize the horror of those wars, but at least they aren't as... dirtying as this one.
The world has been second-guessing Israel's particular military actions in the last week. They allege that some of the attacks against infrastructure were merely punitive and not strategic in nature, that Israel is attacking civilians indiscriminately (or at the very least attacking without a great deal of regard for civilian losses), and that the IDF response has no chance of actually damaging Hezbollah, but merely hurts the Lebanese people (for fairness, I'll mention that others have attributed clear strategic and tactical necessity to nearly all of Israel's actions).
I think this analysis is a bit harsh, but I do have my own doubts. *steeples fingers in thought* It is not right that this war must be fought in a manner that causes so much damage and loss of life. I'll freely admit that the Lebanese people are not quite all victims in this fight, and that it was their responsibility to rein in Hezbollah (regardless of the threat of a civil war). But regardless, this level of suffering and destruction is simply horrible. I don't feel that moral equivalency arguments can work here. So what if Haifa and Natzeret and Tzfat and T'veriah have been under attack? Yes, that demands a response - but not an equal response, rather a response that will actually stop the attacks (whatever that is).
Yes, yes. I've made the arguments myself - about how Hezbollah is hiding behind civilians, blah blah blah. The arguments aren't wrong... it's just that rationalizations and 'ends justify the means' arguments are demeaning to Israel and to the Jewish people. Golda Meir had it spot on: "We can forgive you for killing our sons. But we will never forgive you for making us kill yours." This continual... slaughter... is not something the Jewish State is supposed to be engaged in, justified or not.
I honestly don't know what can be done. I hope most fervently that Israel has done everything in its power to look at other options before continuing on this bloodbath. I wish that the Lebanese people had done everything in theirs to keep this from happening, and that the rest of the world had put more pressure on Syria and Iran to keep things quiet. Oh, I wish, I wish.
Where will this end? I don't know. Perhaps Israel will have to take the war to Syria (some suggest they should have done so a long time ago)... initiating more bloodshed, but hopefully mostly against the military and government, and not suburbs of Damascus. Perhaps the world can step in and finally do away with Hezbollah. Or perhaps Lebanon can come to an agreement with Israel where they unite together to get rid of foreign-supported militias in their borders. Who knows? Unfortunately, what seems most likely is that Hezbollah will be seriously damaged (after a long, protracted, bloody war), and things will go back to their status quo.
*sighs* It's times like these when I am reminded of the words of hope that others have said in other trying circumstances. I have a dream... That magnificent poetry from Martin Luther King, Jr. conveys a beautiful image. It conveys a world without chains, without boundaries, a world without senseless strife... a world where people can live together in recognition of the things that make us all the same and in celebration of the things that make us different.
I have a dream... that someday, Israel and Lebanon will live side by side in harmony. Vacationers from Tel-Aviv will relax on Beirut's beaches, and Beirut denizens on Tel-Aviv's. Northern Israel and southern Lebanon will live in peace and quiet, cultivating their farmland and tourists with equal fervor, making the landscape green and beautiful to cover the scars of war. There won't be a 'border fence' patrolled by heavily armed Israeli soldiers, but rather an open border 'patrolled' by friendly neighbors helping each other build a better future. I have a dream that Lebanon and Israel "will be transformed into a situation where little Israeli boys and Israeli girls will be able to join hands with little Lebanese boys and Lebanese girls and walk together as sisters and brothers." Someday... someday.
We need to find a way that ensures the safety of our people yet at the same time does not compromise the principles of that same people. We need to find the majority of good people in each of our enemy's populaces and cultivate them, building unbreakable bonds of trust and loyalty and peace. We need... to make the world a better place, rather than adding to chaos and strife.
I'll leave you with a thought from another poet who dreamed of peace:
אני מביט מהחלון
וזה עושה לי די עצוב
האביב חלף עבר לו
מי יודע אם ישוב
הליצן נהיה למלך
הנביא נהיה ליצן
ושכחתי את הדרך
אבל אני עוד כאן
פזמון:
יהיה טוב
יהיה טוב כן
לפעמים אני נשבר
אז הלילה הו הלילה
איתך אני נשאר
ילדים לובשים כנפיים
ועפים אל הצבא
ואחרי שנתיים
הם חוזרים ללא תשובה
אנשים חיים במתח
מחפשים סיבה לנשום
ובין שנאה לרצח
מדברים על השלום
פזמון
שם למעלה בשמים
עננים לומדים לעוף
ואני מביט למעלה
ורואה מטוס חטוף
ממשלות וגנרלים
מחלקים לנו את הנוף
לשלהם ולשלנו
מתי נראה ת'סוף
הנה בא נשיא מצרים
איך שמחנו לקראתו
פירמידות בעיניים
ושלום במקטרתו
ואמרנו בוא נשלימה
ונחיה כמו אחים
ואז הוא אמר קדימה
רק תצאו מהשטחים
פזמון
עוד נלמד לחיות ביחד
בין חורשות עצי זיתים
ילדים יחיו בלי פחד
בלי גבולות בלי מקלטים
על קברים יפרח העשב
לשלום ואהבה
מאה שנים של חרב
ועוד לא, לא אבדה התקווה
That last stanza can be roughly translated as:
We will yet learn to live together
Between the lines of olive trees
Children will live without fear
Without borders, without boundaries
On the graves grass will grow
To peace and love
[After] one hundred years of the sword
We have not yet - not yet lost the hope...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
