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Text: The bird of peace has fallen asleep forever, In Tel Aviv the air raid alarm is sounding again. The snow falls black on the ground, and I don't want to leave the house anymore. To go into Siberian hibernation until spring, no more doing, no more tasks. Life without purpose is suffocating, The withered fly in the window hints: That it's all hopelessness. The days are shorter, but the nights are longer. Looking at the world from behind fences and wires. The sky stares point-blank, Time doesn't go anywhere. It's adding up like graveyard slabs. You can hear the notes of pathos in the idealism. Someday spring will come to your house.
