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Three Colors
translated from the Hebrew by Seymour Mayne

On Memorial Day I make my way up 
to the small military cemetery. 
In the northwestern corner 
we've placed a grey basalt rock 
and facing the southern corner -- 
a blanching chunk of chalk. 
And between under the loose sand 
our red loam 
spreads itself all around. 

And when the loudspeaker booms out 
the memorial prayer 
I close my eyes 
and see those three colors 
descend before me and disappear 
into the encroaching shadow of the stones.