Aphorisms  Criticism

Tautened harp strings of David's lamentation vibrate, air
Bends the grasses, echoing his heart of despair.
Crowned in the cities of Hebron, yet spurned -
Oh Children of Israel! Cannot even hate be adjourned?

The twelve youths of Avner girded, raised a tune of battle
To play and dance in death
With the twelve of Yoav and the scabbards' rattle
As the carrion smells blood and sweated breath.

Asah-El in chase, the gazelle pursuing the stag
As the sword and arrows embrace into a moribund quag.
David's lament is starting, stretching the sound to the hills.
Asah-El, Asah-El, Asah-El, fading sorrowing trills.