Home : Poems : Merosh Zurim : The Mission
The Mission

Six hundred thousand souls,
Are his spirit
Six hundred thousand supplications,
Are his prayer
Six hundred thousand destinies,
Are his lot

By the ladder of their virtue
Is his supernal ascend
Should their step falter -
His stature is bent

As he dons vigor
Then triumph his hosts
Should his hand slacken
Then vanquish the foe

They crowned him king
And he crossed with but his staff
He bore them in his bosom
And they said to stone him...

He fell upon his face
And bowed to the ground - - -
For there arose before his eyes
A vision from days of yore
and he beheld the day of the burning bush:

The voice called -
He closed his ear
The voice knocked -
The door he blocked
The voice pursued -
He evaded.
Yet his soul know then
There's no escape,
'til late
He struggled
'Til night fell...

Green pastures,
Still waters,
Encircled him, beckoned:
"Do not abandon!"
Splendorous solitude
Embraced him, implored:
"Do not go!"

Still he stood
Amongst the dessert boulders
At the craggy mount -
A Man
With his G-d

The thornbush's flame
- a searing compassion
for a nation in chains -
Already blazed in his heart --
And he know
With all his being
That nevermore
Shall he longer

From the Hebrew by Yanki Tauber

Copyright © 1942-2024 Family Steinmetz. Reproduction or copying of this material is permitted if the source is cited.

Merosh Zurim

• The present (p. 17)

• The voice of the soil (p. 30)

• The leader (p. 34)

• The Trap of Time (p. 35)

• The Decree (p. 41)

• On the Doorways (p. 57)

• Freedom of Choice (p. 78)

• Mealtime Guests (p. 79)

• The Windmill of the Poet (p. 94)

• A Strange Sight (p. 96)

• The Foundation (p. 98)

• In Hiding (p. 113)

• Ratzo V'Shov (p. 125)

• Eating (p. 163)