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Literature and Poetry/
Rosh Hashana

Ilana Bernstein

Look, again …


The squills are lit on the hill again

With their exquisite

chaste blossom.

And as always

We must begin from the start –

To count the days

And the dates

To elevate from the secular

The holiday sparks

And to ignite night and day

The extinguished ember of the fire of our life.


The squills are blooming again on the hill

as always …

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