Ultimately,
tired of wandering,
they manufactured
a Homeland.
But what had actually been done,
they could not foresee.
They had reduced themselves
to a tiny speck, a fleck,
a metal scrap
amongst weapons and machines.
The homeland,
you certainly will realize eventually,
would turn out to be nothing
but a perpetual game -
whenever you'll get time
to slouch yourself towards God
in your holy land
or clasp the Holy Book
in your hands -
this thing, that thing,
something will always fall off -
the guns, the helmet, the bullets
and all you could do is grin.
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