My Words to the Gun
There's something I'd like to tell you, gun. You, who sits snugly on my hip and accompanies me on my trails, as I walk among thorns and bushes, in mountains and in valleys, in the open and in concealment from a foe who lies in an ambush - you are always at my side.
And when there the number of enemies on the path increases, and every tree, bush and rock say, "Be careful!" And when darkness deepens, and every shadow may be an enemy and a thorn from within tells me, "Go back!" - You tighten my waist and say: "Go on, I'm with you, I'm with you As I feel your grip in my hand I am reassured that, yes, you are with me, and waves of confidence pass from you to my waist and engulf my entire body.
You, in which every limb of your body, lies the fate of my life, you, who tell my enemies, "Beware!", who provides me with a night's rest as you lie under my pillow, you, who create thunder, lightning and smoke and who spits metal -
You are a villain!
You cast burning metal to live organs. You pierce holes in the heads and hearts of the creatures of G-d. Powerful men, full of life and energy, who can build buildings and plow fields and create thousands of you, are instantly transformed into lifeless masses of flesh. You rob fathers of sons and sons of mothers and friends from spouses. You, who are neither used to build a house nor to plow a field, not to dig a bed, or to prune a tree, why were you created?
I hate you, I hate you bitterly! I am embarrassed to carry you, but I must take you, so I will conceal you beneath my clothes so that that others shall not witness my shame.
But a day will come, when no one shall aim to destroy the soul of another, and waves of security shall flow around me, and I will no longer seek your security and assistance of your lying on my waist. At that time, I shall lift you with wrath, I shall smash you and dim your gloss and throw you into a furnace. There you shall melt and lose your shape and shall become a powerless block of metal. And then I shall obtain a companion, who shall also accompany me, and shall rest on my waist and grant me the confidence of life - that is, a pair of shears ...
Amos Fine, Settler of Nahalal, Fell in the War of Independence