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A Desolate City

A Desolate City

My friends, my shepherds, like lions, knew not to retreat, Nor now will they stray like sheep. I shall walk upon thy hills, through thy valleys, along thy horizons, I shall pursue them till they return to roar in pride and keep. Yet thou art an abandoned city, In thy streets no passerby, a wasteland in endless desolation wrought; No bleating of a lamb, No growling of a lion’s whelp— Here they have all been lost. The prophets played for me like pipes, For in the days to come my city shall return, and her ruins shall be built anew; A new heart and a new spirit My fellow men shall all be given as are due. And when thou shalt come, and when thou shalt return, Then will I do as the words of the covenant, And shall believe with all my heart That in the city there is judgment.

About this poem

This poem was originally written in Hebrew. To see the Hebrew version, click here.

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