And I Tell Myself, A Moon Will

Far Away, Our Dreams Have Nothing To Do With What We Do. The Wind Carries The Night, And Passes On, Aimless.

I Don't Decide To Represent Anything Except Myself. But That Self Is Full Of Collective Memory.

Nothing Is Harder On The Soul, Than The Smell Of Dreams, While They're Evaporating.

I Am Patient And Am Waiting For A Profound Revolution In The Consciousness Of The Israelis. The Arabs Are Ready To Accept A Strong Israel With Nuclear Arms - All It Has To Do Is Open The Gates Of Its Fortress And Make Peace.

I Thought Poetry Could Change Everything, Could Change History And Could Humanize, And I Think That The Illusion Is Very Necessary To Push Poets To Be Involved And To Believe, But Now I Think That Poetry Changes Only The Poet.