THE KILLING OF YITZHAK RABIN

Yitzhak, now old, is bound
on the altar of peace.
Zealots, swirling-tzitzis-trailing,
hurl cruel words.
Nazi! Traitor! Dictator!
Young Amir thinks he hears God's voice
and answers, "Here I am."

A gun is raised
the angel does not speak.
Sounds of bullets fill the square.
Rabin's blood soaks the song of peace.
One drop falls
on the angel's outstretched wing.
The angel sobs, curses Shin Bet.
Pleads, "Lord, let Yitzhak's blood
enter the hearts of men."

 - Bernard Otterman