My Heart is in the East.
Artwork by Daniel Kabakoff
My heart is afar in the East,
and I, at the edge of the West.
How then can I nibble on dainties,
or sweetmeats, how can I ingest?
My vows—how am I to fulfill them?
Where may I in full find God’s grace,
while neighboring arms threaten Zion,
and my neighbors’ arms so embrace?
I’d turn my back gladly on exile,
its grandeur agleam like a bubble,
to gaze on the ruins of Zion,
the Temple, its dust, and its rubble.